UC-NRLF 


THE    ESSENTIALS 

OF 

ENGLISH   COMPOSITION 


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in  2007  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


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THE  ESSENTIALS 


OF 


ENGLISH   COMPOSITION 


BY 


JAMES    WEBER   LINN 

ASSOCIATE  PROFESSOR  OF  ENGLISH.  UNIVERSITY  OF  CmCAfli 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  BOSTON 

ATLANTA  SAN  FRANCISCO 


Copyright,  1912, 1916,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 
R 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

Op  making  text-books  on  English  Composition  there  is 
no  end.  The  author  of  the  work  here  offered  consulted 
more  than  fifty,  and  might  doubtless  have  consulted  as 
many  more.  Yet  he  presents  no  apology  for  adding  to 
the  list.  Some  are  too  complicated  to  be  helpful;  others 
too  dogmatic  to  be  trustworthy;  still  others  are  highly 
valuable  only  as  works  of  reference.  Most  are  addressed 
either  to  the  elementary  student,  to  the  proficient,  or  to 
the  teacher.  Diligent  search  throughout  fourteen  years' 
experience  in  teaching  college  freshmen  classes  has  brought 
to  the  present  author's  notice  not  one  book  which  meets  the 
requirements  of  the  students  whom  year  after  year  he  has 
faced.  They  ought  not,  perhaps,  to  need  review  of  ele- 
mentary details,  but  they  do  need  it.  They  ought,  per- 
haps, to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  finer  matters  of  style, 
but  they  are  not.  This  book  seeks  to  give,  in  small  com- 
pass, the  information  and  direction  which  the  average 
boy  or  girl  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  who  has  had  the  aver- 
age training  in  composition  in  the  grades  and  the  high 
schools,  needs  to  supplement  and  enliven  his  or  her  ability 
to  write  clear  English.  It  is  written  as  much  to  interest 
as  to  insist,  as  much  to  stimulate  as  to  command.  It 
gives  few  rules,  and  those  simple;  many  suggestions,  and 
those,  it  is  hoped,  clear.  If  it  contains  one  sentence  that 
needs  explanation  by  a  teacher,  the  author  has  so  far  failed 
of  his  intention.    Any  good  teacher  must  elaborate,  must 

v 

n70/!  O/i  OQ 


vi  PREFATORY  NOTE 

apply  generalities  to  the  individual  instance,  must  effect 
by  his  personality  what  a  text-book  cannot  effect;  but  the 
student  has  a  right  to  demand,  nevertheless,  from  his  text- 
book statements  that  are  accurate,  helpful,  and  impossi- 
ble to  misunderstand.  The  author  hopes  that  his  book 
will  meet  just  such  demands. 

The  treatment  of  the  whole  composition  is  based  on  the 
idea  that  here  thought,  not  phrasing,  organization,  not 
detail,  is  the  important  matter.  The  paragraph  has  been 
handled  briefly  because  single  paragraphs  are  subject  to 
exactly  the  same  laws  as  the  whole  composition,  and  para- 
graph division  more  certainly  than  anything  else  in  com- 
position is  a  matter  for  the  individual  judgment;  this 
every  one  who  has  studied  the  history  of  the  English  para- 
graph admits.  The  discussion  of  the  sentence  is  full,  but 
compact  and  untechnical;  it  is  more  specifically  a  review 
than  is  anything  else  in  the  book,  though  the  section  on 
sentence-groups  may  offer  the  student  fresh  ideas.  The 
word  is  considered  first  from  the  point  of  view  of  effective- 
ness, because  the  matter  of  propriety  seems  to  the  author, 
though  highly  important,  not  the  most  important  matter. 
The  section  on  punctuation  is  frankly  review  material. 
Hie  discussion  of  the  kinds  of  composition  seeks  to  elim- 
inate non-essentials  and  mere  categories,  and  to  con- 
centrate the  attention  of  the  student  on  fundamental  and 
important  things. 

Little  use  has  been  made  of  the  terms  unity,  emphasis 
and  coherence,  so  familiar  to  every  teacher.  Their  in- 
troduction did  much  for  the  study  of  English  composi- 
tion. In  preparatory  school  work  the  focussing  of  the 
student's  attention  upon  them  is  wise.  By  college  days, 
however,  and  even  perhaps  in  the  review  year  in  the  schools, 
the  time  arrives  when  the  student  must  be  allowed  to 
realize  that  these  terms  are  only  means  to  an  end,  when  his 


PREFATORY  NOTE  vl 

interest  must  be  stimulated  to  the  end  itself.  Rules  and 
terms,  having  served  their  purpose,  give  way  to  discussion 
and  suggestion.  When  the  well-known  phrases  fit  the 
ideas  presented  here,  the  author  has  used  them  without 
hesitation,  but  he  has  not  made  them  either  his  starting- 
point  or  his  conclusion. 

His  thanks  and  appreciation  are  due  to  so  many  who 
have  been  of  assistance  to  him,  that  enumeration  would 
occupy  too  great  a  space.  To  Professor  Barrett  Wendell's 
English  Composition  and  Professor  Charles  Sears  Bald- 
win's various  writings  on  rhetoric,  he  would  gratefully 
acknowledge  his  debt;  it  is  a  debt  common  to  all 
who  teach  the  subject  nowadays.  His  colleagues  at  the 
University  of  Chicago  have  been  unwearied  in  friendly 
aid.  In  connection  with  the  exercises,  Miss  Evelyn  May 
Albright  and  Miss  Gertrude  Emerson  have  given  help 
of  a  sort  which  the  author  could  hardly  have  done  with- 
out, and  for  which  he  here  returns  his  warmest  thanks. 


CONTENTS 


PA(3E 

jPrepatory  Note v 


PART  I—COMPOSITION  IN  GENERAL 

Section  I 

the  whole  composition 

Essentials  of  Sound  Composition 3 

Something  to  Say 3 

Writing  only  from  Special  Knowledge 4 

Getting  Special  Knowledge 5 

The  Power  to  Think  Clearly 3 

Limiting  the  Subject 10 

The  Point  of  View 11 

Limiting  the  Subject  to  Suit  the  Audience 13 

Organization 15 

The  Process  of  Organization 16 

The  Beginning 17 

The  Order  of  Topics 17 

The  Ending 18 

The  Relation  of  Topic  to  Topic 19 

Outlines 22 

Development 25 

Development  a  Matter  of  Details 26 

The  Methods  of  Development 29 

Significance  of  Material       29 

Arrangement  of  Details 30 

Proportion 31 


x  CONTENTS 

Section  II 

the  paragraph 

What  is  Paragraphing? 32 

The  Paragraph  as  the  Treatment  op  a  Topic  ...  32 

The  Length  of  the  Paragraph 32 

Length  in  Relation  to  Topic 33 

Emphasis  in  Relation  to  Topic 34 

The  Topic-Sentence 35 

Arrangement  of  the  Material 37 

The  Relation  op  the  Paragraph  to  the  Whole   .    .  38 
Section  III 

THE  SENTENCE 

What  the  Sentence  Is 42 

Kinds  op  Sentences 42 

The  Essentials  op  a  Good  Sentence 43 

Correct  Grammar,  Sound  Organization 43 

Grammar  a  Matter  of  Usage       43 

Solecisms 44 

Arrangement 44 

Reference 47 

Co-ordination  and  Subordination 50 

Ellipsis 55 

Verb-Forms 57 

Tenses        58 

The  Participle  and  the  Infinitive 65 

The  Organization  of  the  Sentence 65 

Clearness  in  the  Sentence 66 

How  to  Gain  Clearness 68 

Emphasis 73 


CONTENTS  xi 

PACE 

The  Sentence  in  Relation  to  Other  Sentences   .    .  77 

What  Shall  each  Sentence  Contain? 77 

The  Relation  of  One  Sentence  to  Another 78 

Variety  of  Sentence-Form 82 

Section  IV 

WORDS 

The  Characteristics  op  a  Good  Vocabulary     ...  86 

Exactness 86 


Propriety 93 

Tone 95 

Number  op  Words 96 

Idiom 97 

Section  V 
punctuation 

The  Object  of  Punctuation 102 

The  Marks  of  Punctuation 102 

Capitalization 106 

Italicization 107 

PART  II— THE  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Introductory — Exposition,  Argumentation,  Description, 

Narration 109 

Section  VI 

exposition 

The  Material  op  Exposition Ill 

Exposition  in  Relation  to  Description  and  Narration    111 


xii  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Definition 0  112 

The  Process  of  Exposition 112 

Details  in  Exposition 114 

The  Importance  of  Examples 115 

Order  in  Exposition 116 

Interest  in  Exposition 117 

Section  VII 

argumentation 

Argumentation  Defined 121 

The  Basis  of  Argument — Fact  and  Inference  ....  122 

Proof 122 

The  Kinds  of  Evidence 123 

Personal  Evidence  and  Its  Value 124 

The  Evidence  of  Authority 126 

Circumstantial  Evidence  and  Its  Value 126 

The  Relation  of  Personal  Evidence  and  Circumstantial 

Evidence 128 

The  Processes  of  Logic        128 

The  Basis  of  General  Conclusions 129 

The  Application  to  Particular  Instances.    Syllogisms  130 

Analogy 132 

Summary 133 

The  Preparation  of  an  Argument 133 

Determining  the  Issue 133 

Denning  the  Terms 133 

The  Introduction 134 

The  Body  of  the  Argument 134 

The  Process  of  Argument 135 

Refutation 137 

The  Form  of  a  Brief 138 

The  Conclusion 139 

Persuasion 139 


CONTENTS  xiii 
Section  VIII 

NARRATION 

PAGE 

What  Narration  Is  •••'•»•♦•»    *    •    ♦    •  146 

The  Object  of  Narration           ..*»,....  146 

The  Methods  of  Narration 146 

The  Order  of  Events 147 

Suspense 149 

The  Selection  of  Incidents       .    ••,..••.    •  149 

Developing  Incidents 150 

Inherent  Interest  of  Events 150 

Knowledge  of  the  Intention  of  the  Narration      .     .    .  151 

Climax 153 

The  Logic  of  Events 153 

The  Introduction  of  Characters        154 

Description  and  Exposition  in  Character  Presentation  156 

Methods  of  Developing  Character 156 

The  Introduction  of  the  Setting 156 

"Setting"  is  not  "Landscape" «  157 

The  Language  of  Narration     .........  158 

Dialogue 159 

The  Composition  of  Dialogue 160 

How  to  Introduce  Dialogue 161 

Fhe  Short  Story 161 

The  Form  of  the  Short  Story 162 

"Situation"  in  the  Story 162 

The  Relation  of  Situation  to  Climax 162 

The  Relation  of  Situation  to  Character 163 

Character  in  the  Short  Story       163 

The  Presentation  of  Character 163 


xiv  CONTENTS 

Section  IX 

DESCRIPTION 

PAGE 

What  Description  Is 168 

Getting  the  Descriptive  Effect 171 

Description  not  "Word-Painting " ,  171 

Specification  in  Description 172 

Organization  of  Descriptive  Writing 174 

The  Point  of  View 174 

Narration  and  Description 176 

Topographical  Organization 177 

The  Language  of  Description •    •    -  178 

Index 183 


THE  ESSENTIALS  OF  ENGLISH 
COMPOSITION. 


FART  I. 

COMPOSITION   IN   GENERAL. 

SECTION  L 
The  Whole  Composition, 

l«  Essentials  of  Sound  Composition. — Literature  is 
one  of  the  fine  arts;  but  everyday  writing,  as  all  of  us  are 
called  upon  to  practice  it,  is  a  craft.  Genius,  which  pro- 
duces literature,  is  born  in  its  possessor,  and  cannot  be  ac- 
quired; but  the  craft  of  writing  can  be  learned  by  anyone, 
like  carpentry  or  dancing.  It  is  then  not  with  the  art  of 
literature  but  with  the  craft  of  writing,  often  called  com- 
position, that  this  book,  like  other  text-books,  deals. 

Four  things  are  essential  for  sound  composition; 

L  Something  to  say. 

2.  The  power  to  think  clearly. 

3.  An  understanding  of  the  English  sentence. 

4.  A  good  vocabulary. 

2.  Something  to  Say. — The  first  sounds  simple.  But 
it  is  nevertheless  worth  some  consideration.  Under  what 
circumstances,  outside  of  a  class  in  English,  do  you  ever 
write  ?  When  you  have  news  to  give,  as  in  a  letter;  when 
you  have  information  to  give,  and  opinions  to  express,  as 
in  a  report  of  work  you  have  done;  when  your  imagina- 
tion is  fired  to  tell  a  story.  In  every  case,  you  base  your 
writing  on  definite  knowledge,  or  vivid  imaginings.  In 
every  case,  you  write  of  something  which  you  know  imort 

3 


4  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

about  than  your  audience  does.  A  letter  which  gave  no 
news,  a  report  which  offered  no  information,  a  story  which 
dealt  with  stale  characters  and  incidents,  you  would  not 
write. 

Yet  what  do  you  do  when  you  practise  composition? 
Too  often  you  write  on  subjects  you  know  no  more  about 
than  the  audience  does  (the  rest  of  the  class).  "Canadian 
Reciprocity,"  "Baseball,"  "Friendship,"  "Fishing,"  "The 
Pleasures  of  Vacation,"  "Oliver  Goldsmith" — you  cannot 
handle  such  subjects,  because  you  have  no  special  knowl- 
edge. If  you  do  write  on  them,  your  work  is  dull,  because 
you  have  nothing  to  say. 

What  then?  There  are  two  plans  by  which  you  may 
avoid  this  difficulty,  both  good. 

1.  Write  on  whatever  you  have  special  knowledge  of. 

2.  Get  special  knowledge  of  some  subject  and  write  on  that. 

3.  Writing  Only  from  Special  Knowledge. — The  first 
is  the  simpler  and  perhaps  the  lazier.  Everybody  has  spe 
ciai  knowledge  on  certain  subjects — the  subjects  that  form 
the  core  of  his  experience  and  his  interests.  "  What  the 
Farmers  of  Ellendale,  South  Dakota,  Think  of  Canadian 
Reciprocity N  you  may  happen  personally  to  know.  "  How 
to  Play  First  Base"  or  "How  to  Manage  a  High-School 
Baseball  Team,"  or,  "Three  Years  on  the  Scrub  Team'* 
may  fall  right  into  your  experience.  "  Three  Good  Friends 
of  Mine,"  "Trotline  Fishing  in  the  Mississippi,"  "A  Vaca- 
tion in  the  Hayfield," — such  subjects  you  may  have  special 
knowledge  of  and  can  say  something  about.  The  details 
of  the  active  interests  of  your  life  you  are  better  able  to  write 
4>f  than  anyone  else  can  be.  Some  people  are  deterred  from 
writing  on  such  things  because  they  believe  "nobody  is  in 
terested  in  anything  I  know  anything  about."  The  point 
of  view  is  modest  but  absurd.    You  can  rely  on  this:  per^ 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  5 

pie  are  much  alike,  and  what  has  interested  you,  no  matter 
how  trivial  it  may  seem,  will  interest  them. 

4.  Getting  Special  Knowledge. — But  to  write  only 
upon  what  you  already  know  about  is  narrowing.  Your 
business  is  to  get  special  knowledge  of  new  matters.  What 
new  matters  ?  Whatever  your  occupation  or  your  inclina- 
tion dictate.  If  you  are  in  school,  your  other  courses  offer 
you  a  wide  field  for  composition.  To  state  clearly  in  the 
English  class  the  substance  of  your  previous  week's  work 
in  Zoology,  in  Civil  Government,  in  German,  is  of  double 
value — it  fixes  the  information  in  your  mind,  and  it 
trains  your  power  of  expression.  Outside  of  the  class- 
room your  chief  business  is  to  acquire  new  knowledge  of 
people,  knowledge  of  methods  of  work,  knowledge  of  cur- 
rent events.  The  effort  to  express  this  new  knowledge  in 
composition  is  essential.  Until  you  can  express  it  clearly, 
you  have  not  acquired  it.  One  who  says,  "  I  know  it  but 
I  can't  express  it"  is  usually  mistaken.  So  if  you  are  de- 
sirous of  learning  about  anything,  like  Kipling's  mon- 
goose "run  and  find  out,"  and  then  mould  and  fix  your 
new  knowledge  into  that  written  form  we  call  a  "  composi- 
tion" or  a  "theme." 

Your  information  will  come,  necessarily,  either  from  youi 
own  personal  investigation  or  from  reading.  To  be  able  to 
gather  information  on  complicated  subjects  from  printed 
matter  is  most  important. 

Practice  in  investigation  of  this  sort  is  indispensable  to  a 
student,  and  ought  to  be  undertaken  in  every  case,  as  a  corol- 
lary of  practice  in  writing.  Subjects  may  be  chosen  at  large; 
but  it  is  well  to  relate  them  to  what  the  student  is  doing  in  his 
classes.  Such  branches  as  history,  political  economy,  political 
science,  chemistry,  physics,  geology,  botany,  biology,  offer  end- 
less possibilities  of  investigation:  but  work  in  languages,  and  in 
the  English  course  itself,  also  gives  many  topics  for  research. 
A  list  of  possible  subjects  is  hardly  worth  giving;  the  best  plan 


6  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

is  to  consult  the  instructors  of  the  various  courses,  who  can  not 
only  suggest  regions  for  exploration,  but  can  start  the  student 
on  the  right  road. 

Subjects  should  be  concrete.  To  consider  the  question  of 
"  Peace  "  would  be  futile,  but  information  on  "  What  was  formally 
done  in  1911  for  the  advancement  of  world  peace"  would  be 
available  and  worth  getting  hold  of.  "Water  Transportation 
vs.  Railway  Transportation"  is  too  big  to  be  looked  up  by  the 
average  freshman,  but  "Some  specific  objections  to  the  Deep 
Water  Way  to  the  Gulf"  could  be  well  handled.  "French 
Schools"  would  be  an  absurd  subject;  "How  English  is  Taught 
in  France,"  or  "A  Comparison  of  the  French  theme  and  the 
English  theme"  would  not.  "Glaciers"  and  " Monasticism " 
and  "Paragraphing"  and  "Osmosis"  tempt  the  young  inves- 
tigator to  futility;  but  "The  Early  History  of  Artesian  Wells 
in  the  United  States,"  or  "Monte  Cassino"  or  "La  Grande 
Chartreuse"  or  "A  Discussion  of  Various  Statements  concern- 
ing the  Proper  Length  of  the  Paragraph,"  or  "Radium,"  do  not. 
Let  the  topic  be  narrowed  in  consultation  before  investigation 
is  begun. 

The  investigation  itself  begins  with  the  acquisition  of  general 
knowledge  on  what  the  student  is  looking  up.  An  encyclopedia, 
a  large  history,  a  text-book  will  give  a  start.  Often  suggestions 
may  come  from  an  instructor  in  the  field  to  be  surveyed.  From 
such  sources  the  student  will  learn  (1)  the  outlines  of  his  sub- 
ject, (2)  its  relation  to  other  subjects,  (3)  where  to  go  for  more 
special  knowledge.  Lists  of  references  are  subjoined  to  almost 
all  articles  in  such  general  works.  When  all  possible  informa- 
tion has  been  secured  from  books,  let  the  student  turn  to  maga- 
zines. Such  indices  as  Poole's  or  the  American  Library  Associa- 
tion (A.  L.  A.)  are  available  in  every  large  library,  and  are  often 
supplemented  by  others.  Magazine  material  is  indeed  almost 
too  easy  to  get  hold  of;  it  gives  the  student  little  chance  to  ex- 
ercise his  ingenuity.  Familiarity  with  the  methods  of  getting 
at  it,  however,  is  desirable. 

Simply  to  read  various  books  and  magazines  on  your  general 
topic  is  of  course  of  little  use.  The  problem  is  how  most  quickly 
and  surely  to  discover  the  information  you  are  searching  for, 
and  how  to  retain  it  for  most  convenient  use.  To  save  time, 
first  skim  rapidly  through  each  chapter  or  article.  Often  the 
beginning  of  a  paragraph,  even  the  heading  of  a  section,  will 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  7 

clearly  indicate  its  lack  of  value  for  your  purpose.  When  a 
prospector  looks  for  gold,  he  first  observes  a  locality  as  a  whole. 
After  your  preliminary  survey,  go  back  to  those  paragraphs  or, 
in  a  book,  those  chapters,  that  you  have  seen  to  bear  particu- 
larly on  your  subject;  and  then,  like  the  prospector,  dig. 

Like  the  prospector,  also,  assay.  Use  your  judgment  in 
reading;  do  not  try  to  keep  everything.  Pure  metal  is  rare, 
and  you  are  looking  only  for  that.  Decide  what  is  fact,  what 
is  opinion;  do  not  note  the  opinion  unless  it  be  that  of  a  recog- 
nized authority,  who  gives  his  reasons,  and  even  then  it  is  better 
to  note  only  the  reasons.  Decide  between  unimportant,  inci- 
dental facts,  and  facts  of  fundamental  importance.  Discard 
the  unimportant.  Note  even  the  important  facts  as  briefly  as 
possible.  The  exact  words  of  the  author  you  are  reading  are 
not  to  your  purpose,  except  as  now  and  then  you  may  wish  to 
embellish  by  a  quotation.  In  such  a  case  you  will  of  course  not 
only  use  quotation  marks,  but  give  the  name  of  him  you  quote* 
If  you  find  a  detail  of  so-called  "human  interest,"  it  may  be 
well  to  note  it;  even  the  most  profound  scientists  realize  the 
value  of  popular  appeal. 

In  taking  notes,  use  cards.  On  the  card-system  all  modern 
big  businesses,  as  well  as  most  modern  scholars,  depend.  Cards 
can  be  conveniently  shuffled  and  arranged;  the  material  in  the 
old-fashioned  "notebook"  is  hard  to  get  at.  Get  cards,  or  make 
slips  of  stiff  paper,  half  the  size  of  this  page.  When  you  have 
secured  your  preliminary  general  information,  try  to  analyze 
your  subject;  then  put  down  every  sub-head  at  the  top  of  a 
separate  card.  As  you  read,  note  each  fact  of  importance  on 
its  proper  card.  Your  facts  will  come  in  helter-skelter;  you 
must  arrange  them.  If  you  meet,  as  you  constantly  will,  some 
fact  which  fits  none  of  your  prepared  cards,  make  a  new  card. 
Write  out  the  headings  of  each  one  clearly;  you  will  save  your- 
self much  trouble.  Have  plenty  of  cards;  they  are  cheap,  and 
cramped  writing  is  hard  to  read.  Shuffle  your  cards  day  by 
day  as  you  go  on,  improving  your  order — and  in  all  probability 
narrowing  your  topic. 

Finally,  do  not  expect  to  use  all  the  notes  you  take.  The  lees 
of  a  wine-cask  are  undesirable.  The  most  inspiring  teacher  is 
the  man  who  has  immensely  more  information  than  the  giving 
of  his  course  demands.  Skim  off  for  your  readers  the  cream  of 
what  you  know. 


8  ESSENTIALS   OF  COMPOSITION 

Such  investigations  as  this  should  be  part  of  the  assigned 
work  in  every  course  in  composition.  Their  results  need  not 
be  written  out  in  full.  The  student  may  hand  in  an  outline  of 
his  intended  paper,  with  the  cards  upon  which  his  notes  are 
arranged;  or  he  may  write  out  in  full  a  part  of  his  work,  letting 
the  outline  indicate  the  rest.  In  all  cases,  definite  citations 
should  invariably  be  required.  Every  statement  of  fact  should 
be  traceable  to  its  source.  Thus  comes,  eventually,  that  train- 
ing in  "how  to  find  out"  which  combines  with  good  judgment 
to  mark  the  educated  mind. 

Exercise. 

From  the  following  list  of  topics  choose  three  which  lie 
well  within  your  experience,  and  three  which  you  would 
care  to  investigate  further. 

1.  The  principles  of  out-door  cookery. 

2.  How  to  manage  a  high-school  athletic  team. 

3.  Running  a  school  paper. 

4.  Oliver  Goldsmith's  humorous  poetry. 

5.  "Earless  on  high  sat  unabashed  Defoe" — who  wrote  Hkt 
why?  and  was  it  true? 

6.  Delivering  daily  newspapers. 

7.  A  good  system  of  football  signals. 

8.  Training  for  the  quarter-mile. 

9.  Was  Macbeth  a  coward?    Was  Hamlet?    Are  they  alike? 

10.  The  chemistry  involved  in  cooking  an  egg. 

11.  The  habits  of  the  redheaded  woodpecker. 

12.  Learning  to  pronounce  French. 

13.  The  first  novel  I  ever  read,  and  the  latest. 

14.  How  I  learned  to  shop. 

15.  The  first  railroad  in  the  United  States. 

16.  The  guinea-pig — its  name,  its  characteristics  and  its  value. 

17.  Learning  to  do  housework. 

18.  Three  people  I  used  to  know. 

19.  The  principles  of  high-school  debating, 

5.  The  Power  to  Think  Clearly. — The  first  neces- 
sity then  is  special  knowledge  of  your  subject.  The  second 
is  the  power  to  think  clearly.    Obviously,  this  power  does  not 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  9 

come  ^aly  from  the  study  of  English  composition.  Your 
work  in  mathematics,  in  history,  in  economics,  your  study 
of  current  events,  every  daily  exercise  of  your  mind  has  a 
direct  bearing  on  your  work  in  English.  In  composition 
you  attempt  to  put  into  form  and  to  express  so  that  they 
shall  be  clear  to  others,  the  ideas  you  have  gained,  from 
whatever  source  they  may  have  come. 

What  is  this  power  to  think  clearly  ?  It  is  the  ability  to 
perceive  accurately  the  relationship  of  ideas.  It  is  based 
on  experience.  A  baby  grasps  a  handful  of  snow  and  chills 
his  fingers.  He  lets  it  drop,  grasps  another  handful,  and 
gets  the  same  sensation.  After  that  he  will  not  touch  the 
snow, — he  has  seen  the  relationship  of  snow  to  cold.  Offer 
him  a  handful  of  cottonwool,  and  he  will  not  touch  that 
either.  He  has  been  misled  into  thinking  all  white  soft 
stuff  will  hurt  his  fingers.  He  has  perceived  a  relationship 
inaccurately. 

From  our  babyhood,  all  our  thinking,  and  all  our  expres- 
sion, since  expression  is  based  on  thinking,  is  the  repetition 
and  complication  of  this  process.  All  of  us  employ  it 
to  some  extent;  we  usually  perform  it  unconsciously, 
but  on  its  variety  and  accuracy  depends  our  value  to  the 
world. 

How  do  we  employ  this  process  in  composition?  By 
(1)  Limitation,  (2)  Organization,  (3)  Development. 

Note  well: — These  are  all  processes  of  thought,  not  of 
phrasing.  They  precede  the  actual  writing.  Indeed  they 
are  much  broader  in  scope  than  composition  is.  A  man 
who  wishes  to  build  up  a  business,  or  to  plan  a  house,  or 
construct  a  picture  or  a  sonata,  must  employ  them  all. 
But  they  exhibit  themselves  with  particular  clearness  in 
composition. 

In  actual  composition  these  three  work  simultaneously. 
We  do  not  as  a  rule  first  limit  a  subject,  then  organize  it, 


10  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

then  develop  it.  But  for  purposes  of  analysis  let  us  pro- 
ceed as  if  this  were  our  fixed  order. 

6.  Limiting  the  Subject. — By  limitation  we  mean  fix- 
ing upon  the  particular  parts  we  intend  to  consider  of  the 
general  subject  that  has  occurred  to  us. 

Macaulay  writes  a  history  of  England.     He  begins: 

I  purpose  to  write  the  history  of  England  from  the  accession 
of  King  James  the  Second  down  to  a  time  which  is  within  the 
memory  of  men  still  living.  I  shall  recount  the  errors  which,  in 
a  few  months,  alienated  a  loyal  gentry  and  priesthood  from  the 
House  of  Stuart.  I  shall  trace  the  course  of  that  revolution 
which  terminated  the  long  struggle  between  our  sovereigns  and 
their  Parliaments,  and  bound  up  together  the  rights  of  the  peo- 
ple and  the  title  of  the  reigning  dynasty.  I  shall  relate  how  the 
new  settlement  was,  during  many  troubled  years,  successfully 
defended  against  foreign  and  domestic  enemies;  how,  under  that 
settlement,  the  authority  of  law  and  the  security  of  property 
were  found  to  be  compatible  with  a  liberty  of  discussion  and  of 
individual  action  never  before  known;  how,  from  the  auspicious 
union  of  order  and  freedom,  sprang  a  prosperity  of  which  the 
annals  of  human  affairs  had  furnished  no  example;  how  our 
country,  from  a  state  of  ignominious  vassalage,  rapidly  rose  to 
the  place  of  umpire  among  European  powers;  how  her  opulence 
and  her  martial  glory  grew  together;  how,  by  wise  and  resolute 
good  faith,  was  gradually  established  a  public  credit  fruitful  of 
marvels  which  to  the  statesmen  of  any  former  age  would  have 
seemed  incredible;  how  a  gigantic  commerce  gave  place  to 
maritime  power,  compared  with  which  every  other  maritime 
power,  ancient  or  modern,  sinks  into  insignificance;  how  Scot- 
land, after  ages  of  enmity,  was  at  length  united  to  England,  not 
merely  by  legal  bonds,  but  by  indissoluble  ties  of  interest  and 
affection;  how,  in  America,  the  British  colonies  rapidly  became 
far  mightier  and  wealthier  than  the  realms  which  Cortes  and 
Pizarro  had  added  to  the  dominions  of  Charles  the  Fifth;  how 
in  Asia  British  adventurers  founded  an  empire  not  less  splendid 
and  more  durable  than  that  of  Alexander. 

Thus  Macaulay  formally  limits  his  subject.  You  will 
not  usually  state  beforehand  in  this  fashion  the  limits  of 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  11 

your  own  subjects.  But  you  will  follow  the  same  plan 
that  Macaulay  followed.  You  will  ask  yourself  three 
questions.  (1)  What  do  I  know  best  about  this  general 
subject?  (2)  What  in  it  most  interests  me?  (3)  What 
in  it  is  likely  to  be  of  most  interest  to  others?  On  the 
answers  to  these  questions  depends  your  limitation. 

7.  The  Point  of  View. — Suppose  you  wish  to  write 
something  about  your  preparatory  school.  In  the  first 
place,  only  the  vague  idea  takes  possession  of  you  that  at 
school  you  had  an  agreeable  time  and  learned  a  good  many 
things  and  made  a  good  many  friends,  and  inasmuch  as 
you  remember  your  experience  with  pleasure  you  would 
like  to  write  about  it.  If  at  this  point  you  actually  begin 
to  set  your  thoughts  down  on  paper  without  further  plan, 
you  will  discover  very  shortly  that  you  have  little  or  nothing 
to  say,  and  you  will  conclude,  therefore,  that  even  though 
the  subject  appealed  to  you  for  a  moment,  it  is  really  un- 
interesting and  not  worth  while.  You  will  be  quite  wrong. 
A  subject  of  this  sort  drawn  from  an  interested  personal 
experience  is  very  well  worth  while  and  you  have  a  great 
deal  to  say  about  it,  if  you  think  the  subject  out. 

Suppose  you  set  down  in  the  order  in  which  they  occur 
to  you  various  points  which  seem  of  interest: 

(1)  The  locality  of  the  high  school. 

(2)  Its  success  in  athletics. 

(3)  Its  system  of  student  government. 

(4)  The  many  friends  you  made  there. 

(5)  Particular  teachers  whom  you  liked  or  disliked. 

(6)  The  debating  society. 

(7)  The  school  dances. 

(8)  The  school  paper. 

(9)  The  number  of  its  graduates  who  have  gone  to  col- 
lege. 

(10)  The  school  spirit. 


12  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Already  it  becomes  plain  that  there  is  more  to  write  about 
than  you  have  space  to  deal  with.  Out  of  the  various  things 
which  suggest  themselves  to  you  some  must  either  be 
omitted  altogether  or  else  passed  over  very  briefly.  Now 
you  apply  the  principle,  earlier  stated,  that  you  must  have 
a  definite  knowledge  of  the  subjects  upon  which  you  are 
going  to  write.  About  which  of  these  ten  points  have  you 
any  definite  knowledge?  That  is  to  say,  which  do  you 
know  in  detail  ?  If  your  interest  was  in  athletics,  you  know 
definite  details  of  athletics.  So  with  debating.  So  with  the 
school  paper.  Your  knowledge  of  the  school  spirit  is  more 
likely  to  be  general.  Your  knowledge  of  the  peculiarities, 
agreeable  and  disagreeable,  of  various  instructors,  is  defi- 
nite enough,  but  on  consideration  you  may  feel  that  it  is 
of  no  special  importance.  Since  you  cannot  include  every- 
thing in  your  paper,  let  your  interests  decide  for  you  what 
you  will  retain. 

Let  us  suppose  (1)  that  you  were  an  athlete.  From  the 
original  list,  then,  you  will  omit  the  debating  society  and  the 
school  paper;  probably  the  system  of  student  government 
also,  unless  that  system  included  the  management  of  the 
athletic  teams.  Or  perhaps  (2)  you  were  a  hard  student. 
Then  you  will  include,  probably,  an  account  of  particular 
teachers  and  their  methods;  speak  of  the  graduates  in  col- 
lege, the  debating  work,  perhaps,  and  possibly  the  friends 
you  made.  If  (3)  your  interest  was  more  in  the  school  as  a 
whole,  you  will  pass  lightly  over  athletics  and  the  debating 
society,  and  give  your  space  to  the  matters,  such  as  the 
teachers,  your  friends,  the  school  paper,  student  govern- 
ment, and  the  school  spirit,  which  concerned  the  whole 
student  body.  So  whatever  point  of  view  you  adopt  (and 
the  adoption  of  that  point  of  view  will  depend  on  what  your 
interests  are,  and  what  your  definite  knowledge  is),  you  will 
proceed  to  select,  out  of  everything  that  you  can  think  of 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  13 

about  the  general  subject,  those  particular  matters  with 
which  you  are  directly  concerned. 

This  process  of  selection  from  a  definite  point  of  view 
precedes  organization,  and  is  of  the  utmost  importance. 
Of  course  to  anyone  with  a  trained  mind  the  process  be- 
comes very  largely  mechanical.  The  matters  of  importance 
and  of  interest  arrange  themselves  unconsciously  in  his 
mind.  His  point  of  view,  like  some  chemical  reaction, 
affects  their  specific  gravity  and  they  inevitably  bob  up  to 
the  surface  of  his  mind.  But  such  a  desirable  state  of 
affairs  is  brought  about  only  by  practice  and  training,  and 
for  a  long  time  any  composition  must  be  preceded  by  the 
most  conscientious  and  conscious  thinking  out. 

8  Limiting  the  Subject  to  Suit  the  Audience. — In 
the  second  place  your  audience  is  a  most  important  factor 
in  limitation.  Few  write  effectively  unless  they  are  writ- 
ing to  somebody  in  particular.  In  letters  home  about  your 
school  life  you  make  changes  in  your  material  to  suit  the 
people  you  are  writing  to.  Describing  your  first  day  at 
college  to  your  father  and  mother,  you  limit  yourself  to 
your  courses,  your  boarding  place,  your  hopes  and  fears; 
writing  about  the  same  day  to  your  high-school  chum  who 
has  gone  elsewhere  you  limit  yourself  to  undergraduate 
life,  the  football  prospects,  a  comparison  of  your  new  in- 
structors with  those  in  preparatory  school:  to  a  girl  friend 
you  would  not  speak  of  football,  but  would  offer  comment 
on  college  scenery  and  your  own  loneliness.  So  in  all 
writing  your  audience  affects  the  limitation  of  your  subject. 

Compare,  for  instance,  (1)  a  discussion  of  the  rules  of 
baseball,  intended  to  be  clear  to  some  intelligent  English- 
man who  had  never  seen  a  game  and  did  not  understand  its 
first  principles,  and  (2)  a  discussion  of  the  technic  of  first- 
base  playing,  intended  to  be  of  practical  help  to  boys  who 
had  always  played  the  game.     The  two  would  be  very  dif- 


14  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

ferent  in  outline  as  well  as  in  the  quantity  of  information 
they  undertook  to  give.  Again,  an  explanation  of  the  work- 
ings  of  an  electric  motor,  meant  for  the  general  ignorant 
public,  would  differ  in  many  respects  from  an  explanation 
of  the  same  motor  addressed  to  a  manufacturer  whose  shop 
was  run  by  steam,  and  whom  you  wished  to  convert  to  the 
use  of  electricity.  A  description  of  the  city  of  London 
which  was  intended  to  make  a  country  boy  understand  its 
immense  size  and  extent,  would  have  comparatively  few 
points  in  common  with  a  description  of  London  which  was 
intended  to  make  an  Italian  who  had  always  lived  in  sun- 
shine realize  the  fogginess  and  dirtiness  of  a  great  English 
city.  An  account  of  the  starting  of  a  fire  company  to  a 
big  fire  might  be  written  simply  to  interest  and  amuse 
people  who  like  stories  of  vivid  action,  or  it  might  be 
written  to  explain  in  detail  the  devices  by  which  the  com- 
pany is  enabled  to  leave  the  engine  house  within  fifteen 
seconds  of  the  turning  in  of  the  alarm;  but  the  process  of 
limitation  would  work  to  very  different  results  in  the  two 
cases. 

The  object  of  limitation  is  two-fold:  (1)  to  find  a  phase 
of  y  our  general  subject  which  you  can  handle  definitely  in 
the  space  at  your  disposal,  and  (2)  to  put  emphasis  on 
what  you  think  important,  by  excluding  everything  of 
minor  value. 

Exercise. 

The  following  are  possible  limitations  of  the  general 
topic,  "My  Reading."  Each  of  them  of  course  is  sub- 
ject to  further  limitation. 

1.  My  reading  when  I  was  a  child. 

2.  "Required  Reading"  in  high-school  English  and  its  effect 
on  me. 

3.  How  I  study  a  lesson  in  history. 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  15 

4,  My  first  novel  and  my  latest. 
5„  Kow  to  read  the  newspaper. 

6.  My  reading  last  summer. 

7.  My  knowledge  of  the  Bible. 

8.  What  our  Public  Library  has  meant  to  me. 

9.  Shakespeare,  G.  A.  Henty,  and  the  " Elsie' '  books. 

In  the  list  subjoined,  employ  the  same  plan  of  limita- 
tion with  at  least  three  subjects. 

1.  Automobiles. 

2.  My  interest  in  science. 

3.  Camping  out. 

4.  My  preparatory  school. 

5.  Manual  training. 

6.  Spending  a  vacation  profitably. 

7.  College  spirit. 

8.  Robert  Burns. 

9.  Debating. 

10.  Entering  college. 

11.  Disappointments. 

12.  Football. 

13.  Ivanhoe. 

14.  Farming. 

15.  Dormitory  life. 

9.  Organization. — Knowing  in  general  what  you  wish  to 
write  or  speak  of,  then,  you  proceed  to  limit  your  subject. 
What  follows  ?     Organization. 

Organization  of  any  kind  means  putting  material  into 
good  order;  systematizing  ideas.  In  composition  it 
means  arranging  them  so  that  the  reader  can  go  on  easily 
from  one  to  the  next,  and  at  the  end  understand  precisely 
in  what  relation  the  ideas  were  meant  to  stand  to  each 
other  and  to  the  whole.  At  first  subjects  present  them- 
selves in  a  jumble.  The  untrained  mind  is  something 
like  the  grab-bag  at  the  old  church  socials.  One  put  his 
hand  in  blindly  and  pulled  out  whatever  he  happened  to 


16  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

get  hold  of.  Only  by  long  practice  can  one  arrange  his 
knowledge,  no  matter  how  definite  that  knowledge  may 
be,  so  that  he  makes  his  points  effectively.  Look  at  the 
following  letter  to  a  newspaper.  The  writer  was  indig- 
nant and  enthusiastic;  he  thought  he  knew  what  he 
wanted  to  say;  but  what  a  halting,  disorganized  per- 
formance the  letter  is. 

Chicago,  July  17. 
Editor  of  The  Tribune: 

Mrs. says  in  last  Friday's  issue  "that  the  city  is  no  place 

to  keep  dogs."  Many  people  in  this  city  have  pets  of  various 
kinds.  Some  have  pet  dogs.  We  have  always  had  a  pet  dog, 
and  at  no  time  have  they  ever  bitten  anybody  or  in  any  way  dis- 
turbed other  neighbors  by  night  or  day.  We  have  always  taken 
good  care  of  them,  not  allowing  them  to  run  the  streets  at  their 
pleasure,  gave  them  enough  food  and  water.  To  lock  or  tie  a 
dog  up  all  day  and  night  is  not  necessary  or  just. 

It  is  the  abuse  the  poor  dog  gets  from  some  thoughtless,  selfish 
people  that  makes  any  dog  vicious  and  go  mad.  Indeed,  any 
human  person  would  be  likely  to  go  mad  almost  to  be  so  fre- 
quently abused  and  persecuted,  hungry  and  thirsty,  as  most 
dogs  are. 

The  ex-chief  of  police,  Stewart,  said:  "The  dogs  have  all  my 
sympathy.  Were  the  owners  endowed  with  as  much  sense  as 
their  pets  there  would  be  no  trouble.  The  owners  of  the  animals 
are  themselves  to  blame  in  all  cases  where  they  are  held  to  ac- 
count because  of  their  dogs." 

There  are  any  number  of  people  in  and  about  Chicago  who  have 
no  children  and  no  pets  of  any  kind — nor  do  they  want  you  to 
have  any.  Nevertheless,  it  has  been  my  experience  that  if  an 
animal  be  properly  taken  care  of — not  abused — it  will  not  be 
likely  to  harm  or  annoy  anybody. 

io.  The  Process  of  Organization. — In  arranging 
your  material,  you  must  consider  three  things — (1)  where 
snd  how  to  begin,  (2)  how  to  proceed,  (3)  where  and  how 
to  end.  Perhaps  the  only  general  rules  that  ^an  be  given 
are  these: 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  If 

(1)  Begin  promptly. 

(2)  Arrange  your  topics  in  a  logical  order. 

(3)  Have  your  end  in  mind  from  the  beginning. 

11.  The  Beginning. — Begin  promptly.  In  short  pa- 
pers, avoid  trying  to  make  an  "introduction."  If  your 
reader  needs  to  know  any  general  facts  before  he  can  under- 
stand what  you  are  writing  about  in  particular,  give  those 
facts,  but  only  when  it  is  absolutely  necessary.  Almost  all  ■ 
unskilled  writers  begin  too  far  back.  Sir  Walter  Scott 
sometimes  opens  his  novels  by  a  sketch  of  his  hero's  great- 
grandfather, but  he  succeeded  in  being  a  great  writer  in 
spite  of  this  habit,  not  because  of  it.  Your  business  is  to 
give  the  reader  something  of  value  he  does  not  already  pos- 
sess. Do  not  bore  him  by  putting  in  material  he  knows 
already,  nor  confuse  him  by  including  material  which  has 
no  relation  to  your  real  point.  Plunge  in.  An  abrupt 
beginning  is  better  than  a  dull  one. 

12.  The  Order  of  Topics. — Proceed  in  a  definite  order 
of  topics,  an  order  that  you  can  honestly  defend. 

1.  The  simplest  order  perhaps  is  the  time-order,  the 
chronological.  Especially  helpful  in  narration,  it  is  use- 
ful, however,  in  all  kinds  of  writing.  You  may  discuss  the 
process  of  making  a  golf -club,  of  building  a  canoe,  of  learn- 
ing to  play  tennis,  of  the  development  of  your  home  town, 
and  a  thousand  other  things,  chronologically. 

2.  The  space-order  is  also  simple  and  valuable.  You  treat 
of  "The  Technic  of  Line  Play  in  Foot-ball "  by  consider- 
ing first  the  centre,  then  the  guards,  tackles,  ends.  "The 
Structure  of  a  Simple  Gas-Engine"  might  be  taken  up  in 
a  space-order.  "  Making  a  Backyard  Attractive  n  might  be 
handled  in  either  a  space  or  a  time-order.  Space-order  is 
usually  associated  with  descriptive  writing. 

3.  The  order  of  increasing  importance,  or  climax,  is  also 
constantly  employed.     You  have  three  reasons  why  you 


18  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

should  be  allowed  to  join  a  fraternity  ?  Present  them  in 
the  order  of  their  importance,  the  most  cogent  last.  "  Odd 
Characters  in  Locustville"  would  be  similarly  presented. 
Whenever,  as  in  these  cases,  any  enumeration  of  sub-topics 
is  possible,  the  order  of  importance  becomes  immediately  a 
factor  to  be  considered. 

4.  The  method  of  procedure  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known, the  order  of  increasing  complication,  is  often  valu- 
able. In  many  cases  you  must  deal  with  matters  of  which 
your  reader  has  no  knowledge  whatever.  Suppose,  for  ex- 
ample, you  write  of  "Lead-Mining  in  Southern  Missouri." 
Most  of  us  know  nothing  of  lead-mining,  but  about  coal- 
mining we  are  likely  to  have  some  information.  If  you 
begin  by  refreshing  our  memories  by  a  brief  statement  of 
the  principles  of  coal-mining,  we  shall  be  able  to  follow  a 
comparison  of  the  two.  So  scientists  begin  by  laying 
down  elementary  principles,  or  pointing  out  elementary 
facts,  from  which  they  proceed  to  the  more  difficult  and 
abstruse.  This  whole  section  (12)  is  an  example  of  the 
order  of  increasing  complication. 

5.  The  order  of  logical  progress  is  the  most  important 
of  all  in  argument,  and  must  frequently  be  taken  into 
account  in  the  other  forms  of  composition.  In  this  order, 
each  step  taken  depends  on  the  one  which  has  preceded 
it.  Suppose  you  are  contending  that  your  school  should 
adopt  the  "honor  system"  in  examinations.  You  may 
argue  (1)  that  nobody  will  feel  responsible  unless  he  has 
responsibility  placed  upon  him,  (2)  that  the  system  of  ex- 
aminations under  close  supervision  puts  no  responsibility 
on  the  student,  (3)  that  the  "  honor  system "  does  put  re- 
sponsibility on  the  student,  (4)  that  only  by  the  "honor 
system"  can  the  student's  sense  of  responsibility  be  de- 
veloped.    Here  you  have  a  logical  progress  from  point  (1) 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  19 

to  point  (4).    Again,  take  the  old  story  of  the  missing  horse- 
shoe nail  that  cost  a  kingdom  (see  p.  154). 

13.  The  Ending. — Finally,  know  before  you  begin  to 
write  where  and  how  you  mean  to  end.  What  are  you 
leading  up  to?  In  running  the  hundred-yard  dash,  you 
start  quickly,  settle  into  an  even,  steady  pace,  and  just  be- 
fore you  reach  the  tape  put  on  your  highest  speed.  Adopt 
the  same  system  in  your  writing.  But  to  do  so,  you  must 
know  from  the  start  where  you  intend  to  finish.  The 
composition  that  tapers  into  nothingness  is  all  too  fre- 
quent. It  may  be  a  story  that  starts  bravely  but  lacks 
point;  an  argument  that  gets  hold  and  then  lets  go;  or  an 
exposition  that  discusses  one  or  two  points  fully  and  then 
concludes  with  half  a  dozen  weak,  disjointed,  and  unde- 
veloped statements.  That  your  work  should  be  orderly 
is  essential  but  not  quite  all-sufficient.  It  must  also  be 
firm,  and  for  firmness  a  predetermined  end  is  necessary. 

Avoid,  however,  as  a  rule,  a  formal  "  conclusion/ '  just 
as  you  avoid  an  introduction.  In  a  long  paper,  of  a  thou- 
sand words  or  more,  a  summarizing  statement  at  the  end 
may  be  of  value.  In  shorter  compositions  it  is  not  often 
desirable.  Before  you  begin  decide  just  what  your  last 
point  is  to  be,  when  you  reach  it  develop  it  as  freely  and 
fully  as  any  other,  and  then  stop. 

Exercise. 

1.  Indicate  what  order  of  arrangement  might  be  fol- 
lowed with  each  of  the  subjects  you  have  worked  out  from 
the  exercise  on  page  15. 

2.  Write  out  the  final  paragraph  only  of  a  paper  on  one 
of  these  subjects. 

14.  The  Relation  of  Topic  to  Topic. — The  schemes 
for  ordering  a  composition — the  time-order,   the  space- 


20  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

order,  etc. — are  alike  in  one  fundamental  principle — they 
are  all  logical.  Your  reader  makes  one  demand  on  you 
always,  that  he  shall  be  able  to  follow  without  effort  each 
step  in  the  progress  of  your  ideas.  Each  point  you  dis- 
cuss must  have  a  clear  and  definite  relation  to  the  topic 
which  has  preceded  it,  as  well  as  to  the  main  subject. 
This  is  equally  true  whether  you  are  telling  a  story,  ex- 
plaining a  theory,  describing  a  house,  or  convincing  a 
skeptic.  For  discussions  of  this  point  in  detail,  see  the 
sections  dealing  with  the  different  kinds  of  composition. 
But  certain  illustrations  may  well  be  given  here. 

You  are  interested  in  the  general  jnatter  of  debating; 
you  have  determined  to  limit  your  subject  to  "The  Man- 
agement of  a  High-School  Debating  Contest."  You  may 
proceed  chronologically — (1)  Preliminary  Negotiations, 
(2)  Choosing  a  Question,  (3)  Selecting  a  Team,  (4)  Pre- 
paring to  Debate,  (5)  Getting  the  Judges,  (6)  The  Night 
of  the  Contest.  This  is  plain  enough;  each  point  follows  in 
clear  relation  of  time.  No  one  would  so  violate  logic  as  to 
put  (6),  say, between  (1)  and  (2),cr  (5)  between  (3)  and  (4). 

But  let  us  take  a  more  complicated  case.  Suppose  you, 
the  business  manager  of  a  school  paper,  wish  to  sell  a 
man  advertising  space.  You  advance  certain  reasons  why 
he  should  buy — you  have  an  intelligent  if  not  a  very  large 
circle  of  readers,  your  space  is  not  expensive,  as  an  alumnus 
he  ought  to  support  the  college  activities,  the  goods  he 
deals  in  are  much  needed  by  students  in  particular,  and 
other  advertisers  have  found  your  paper  a  good  medium. 
If  you  present  the  arguments  in  this  hit-or-miss  order,  you 
fail  to  make  much  effect.  You  must  organize  them. 
Evidently  the  order  of  time  will  not  work  here;  nor  the 
order  of  space.  How  about  the  order  of  importance? 
What  is  here  most  important  is  hard  to  say,  but  let  us  as- 
sume the  following  to  be  a  fair  arrangement 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  21 

(1)  As  an  alumnus  he  ought  to  support  college  activities. 

(2)  You  have  an  intelligent  if  not  a  large  circle  of  readers. 

(3)  The  goods  he  deals  in  are  much  needed  by  students  in 
particular. 

(4)  Your  space  is  not  expensive. 

(5)  Other  advertisers  have  found  your  paper  a  good  medium. 


This  would  serve.  But  it  can  easily  be  improved. 
What  factors  are  involved  in  the  case?  Your  paper  and 
this  particular  advertiser.  Of  the  arguments  advanced, 
which  apply  to  the  paper  in  general,  and  which  to  this 
particular  advertiser?  (2),  (4)  and  (5)  to  the  paper  in 
general;  (1)  and  (3)  to  this  particular  advertiser.  Sup- 
pose then  the  arrangement  be: 

(1)  You  have  an  intelligent  if  not  a  large  circle  of 
readers. 

(2)  Your  space  is  not  expensive. 

(3)  Other  advertisers  have  found  your  paper  a  good 
medium. 

(4)  As  an  alumnus  he  should  support  college  activities. 

(5)  The  goods  he  deals  in  are  much  needed  by  students 
in  particular. 

You  have  really,  of  course,  reduced  your  main  topics  to 
two,  (1)  the  paper's  general  claim,  (2)  its  claim  on  this  par- 
ticular advertiser,  and  then  subdivided  these  topics.  But 
the  effect  is  of  complete  rearrangement  of  the  original  five 
reasons. 

Suppose  again,  as  a  student  in  American  history,  you 
are  asked  to  give  an  analysis  of  the  character  of  Andrew 
Jackson — not  an  account  of  his  life,  which  would  of 
course  be  chronological,  but  an  analysis  of  his  character. 
You  know  him  to  have  been  obstinate,  quick-tempered, 
a  great  military  leader,  imperious,  courageous,  unedu- 
cated,  a   rough-and-tumble  fighter,  and  devoted  to  his 


22  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

wife.  How  are  you  to  combine  these  ?  Some  are  qualities 
of  his  nature,  others  are  results  of  his  characteristics  or 
his  life. 


obstinacy 
temper 
imperiousness 
courage 
devotion  to  wife 


military  achievements 
lack  of  education 
interest  in  fighting 


Now  plainly  his  lack  of  education  precedes  everything 
else.  His  imperiousness  is  the  result  of  his  obstinacy,  cour- 
age, and  quick  temper,  and  it  is  in  sharp  contrast  to  his  de- 
votion to  his  wife.  On  the  other  hand,  it  connects  itself 
with  his  rough-and-tumble  fighting  and  his  military 
achievements.  Let  us  try,  on  this  basis,  the  following 
arrangement: 

(1)  Jackson's  lack  of  education. 

(2)  The  fundamental  elements  of  his  character — obsti- 
nacy, courage,  quick  temper, — which  made  him  an  imperi- 
ous man. 

(3)  Jackson  as  a  fighter — rough-and-tumble,  and  mili- 
tary power. 

(4)  In  contrast,  his  devotion  to  his  wife. 

To  this,  the  objection  would  be  urged  that  it  strikingly 
violated  the  order  of  importance,  because  Jackson's  devo- 
tion to  his  wife  was  by  no  means  the  most  noteworthy  thing 
in  his  character.  Shall  the  objection  be  met  by  putting  (4) 
after  (2)  ?  No,  because  this  separates  his  imperiousness 
from  its  natural  result,  his  love  of  fighting.  After  con- 
sideration we  see  that  (4)  is  one  of  the  elements  of  Jack- 
son's character,  and  may  therefore  be  included  under  (2). 
Put  first  under  that  head,  it  does  not  interfere  with  the 
essential  connection  of  (2)  and  (3).  So  we  get  as  a  work- 
ing plan  of  topics: — 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  23 

(1)  Jackson's  lack  of  education. 

(2)  The  fundamental  elements  of  his  character — devo- 
tion, but  in  contrast,  obstinacy,  courage,  quick  temper, 
which  made  him  imperious. 

(3)  Jackson  as  a  fighter. 

Studying  further  into  the  man's  ways,  getting  more  in- 
formation, of  course  we  should  modify  this  outline.  But  in 
modifying  it  we  should  use  the  same  process — applying 
general  principles  of  order,  and  continually  watching  to  see 
that  each  topic  stood  in  clear  and  definite  relation  to 
the  rest. 

15.  Outlines. — Such  an  arrangement  of  topics,  or 
analysis  of  a  subject,  is  preliminary  to  all  good  writing. 
By  skilled  writers  it  is  unconsciously  kept  in  mind;  the 
unskilled  should  make  it  on  paper.  Outlining,  in  other 
words,  is  essential.  An  outline  has  a  double  value;  it 
enables  you  to  see  more  clearly  where  your  ideas  are  ill- 
arranged,  and  it  enables  you  to  keep  some  definite  ar- 
rangement firmly  before  you.  Two  kinds  of  outlining 
are  feasible — outlining  by  topics,  and  outlining  by  heads 
and  subheads. 

The  first  consists  merely  of  stating,  in  their  order,  the 
various  major  points  with  which  your  composition  is  to  be 
concerned.  Examples  of  such  outlines  are  those  on  p.  20 
(Advertising  in  a  School  Paper)  and  on  p.  22  (Andrew 
Jackson).  The  form  is  a  simple  one  and  of  considerable 
value.  Often  each  topic  considered  may  be  handled  in 
a  separate  paragraph,  and  the  likelihood  of  effective  para- 
graphing be  thus  increased. 

But  the  only  thoroughly  satisfactory  form  of  outline  for 
practice  is  an  extension  of  this  topical  form — an  analysis, 
by  heads  and  subheads,  of  the  whole  intended  composition. 
Let  us  see  by  way  of  example  an  outline  of  the  subject, 
Taking  Notes  in  a  Lecture-Course. 


24  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

I.  TheResumS: 

(A)  Definition. 

(1)  Includes  only  main  topics  and  conclusions. 

(2)  Not  more  than  300  words  long. 

(3)  Written  after  class. 

(B)  Value. 

(1)  Puts  emphasis  on  important  things. 

(2)  Trains  the  mind. 

(C)  Defects. 

(1)  Difficult  to  do  well  at  first. 

(2)  Not  always  practicable. 

II.  Taking  Notes  in  Class. 

(A)  What  to  take. 

(1)  Why  not  take  everything? 

(a)  Not  everything  is  important. 

(b)  The  effort  to  take  everything  deadens 

the  mind, 
(x)  The  judgment  is  not  exercised, 
(y)  The  memory  is  not  exercised. 

(2)  Important  matters  are: 

(a)  References. 

(b)  Topics. 

(c)  New  facts  used  as  evidence. 

(3)  Unimportant  matters  are : 

(a)  The  lecturer's  personal  opinions  (un- 

less emphasized). 

(b)  Anecdotes  and  fine  phrases. 

(B)  How  to  take  it. 

(1)  Use  a  loose-leaved  notebook. 

(2)  Leave  a  margin. 

(3)  Write  down  only  important  words — do  not 

try  to  write  sentences. 

Such  an  outline  as  this  seems  at  first  sight  a  trifle  com- 
plicated. But  to  make  one  like  it,  of  a  subject  you  know 
well,  is  easy  provided  you  follow  one  fundamental  rule. 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  25 

Take  one  step  at  a  time.    First  divide  your  main  topic  into 
subheads. 

Main  Topic — How  to  take  Notes. 

/    I.  The  Resume, 
bubneads      j  n    Taking  Noteg  ^  ^^ 

Then  take  one  subhead,  consider  it  as  your  topic,  and 
divide  it. 

Topic— The  Resume\ 

[  A.  Definition. 
Subheads      <  B.  Value. 

t'C.   Defects. 

Then  take  each  of  these  in  turn,  consider  it  as  your  topic, 
and  divide  it. 

Topic — Definition . 

f  1.  Includes  only  main  topics  and  conclusions. 
Subheads      I  2.  Not  more  than  300  words  long. 

t  3.  Written  after  class. 
Topic — Value. 
o  , ,       ,       J  1.  Puts  emphasis  on  important  matters. 

\  2.  Trains  the  mind. 

So  you  proceed  step  by  step.  You  do  not  try  to  keep 
everything  in  your  mind  at  once.  The  analysis  grows 
finer  and  finer,  but  the  process  is  identical  throughout. 

In  conclusion,  this  fact  may  be  re-stated:  You  cannot 
make  an  effective  outline  of  material  which  you  do  not 
thoroughly  know.  For  an  outline  is  only  your  organiza- 
tion in  graphic  form;  and  knowledge  must  precede  or- 
ganization always. 


26  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Exercise. 

A.  Arrange  the  following  topics  in  some  sound  and 
logical  order. 

General  subject,  "Why  I  Came  Here  to  College."  Because  the 
principal  of  my  high  school  urged  me,  my  father  was  willing  to 
send  me,  I  have  an  aunt  living  in  this  city,  I  hope  some  day  to 
teach,  I  wanted  to  make  new  friends,  this  college  has  a  good  repu- 
tation, there  are  splendid  chances  here  to  earn  part  of  my  way, 
my  father  was  a  college  man  himself,  and  as  luck  would  have  it, 
the  job  I  expected  to  take  for  this  year  fell  through. 

B.  Analyze  two  of  the  following  subjects,  and  arrange 
the  result  of  your  analysis  by  heads  and  subheads. 

1.  My  impressions  of  college  life  so  far. 

2.  Shall  I  join  a  fraternity? 

3.  Why  I  prefer  athletics  to  general  reading  (or  vice  versa). 

4.  How  to  sell  books  (or  whatever  you  are  competent  to  sell)* 

5.  My  own  character. 

6.  How  to  study  botany  (or  whatever  you  have  best  suc- 
ceeded in). 

7.  A  novel  I  enjoyed. 

8.  What  manual  training  has.  done  for  me. 

9.  Why  I  mean  to  study  law  (engineering,  medicine). 

10.  Our  street. 

1 6.  Development. — So  far,  of  the  processes  of  thinking 
out  what  one  wishes  to  say,  we  have  discussed  limitation  and 
organization.    We  come  now  to  the  process  of  development. 

17.  Development  a  Matter  of  Details. — Development, 
as  here  used,  means  making  each  successive  topic  taken 
up  clear  in  detail.  Suppose  you  wish  to  explain  your  sys- 
tem of  taking  notes  in  a  lecture-course.  You  might  organ- 
ize your  material  thus: — 

1.  One  very  good  way  of  taking  notes  is  to  write  out  after 
class  a  brief  resume  of  the  lecture. 

2.  Often  this  is  not  practicable. 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  27 

3.  To  attempt  to  note  down  everything  is  bad. 

4.  The  order  of  importance  to  be  observed  in  writing 
things  down  is  (a)  references,  (b)  topics,  (c)  facts,  (d)  the 
lecturer's  opinions. 

5.  Various  devices  save  time  and  effort  in  note-taking. 
Here  are  five  points.    They  are  more  or  less  suggestive 

to  the  reader,  but  not  yet  clear.    How  shall  they  be  made 
clear  ?    Let  us  consider  them  in  order. 

1.  A  very  good  way  of  taking  notes  is  to  write  out  after 
class  a  brief  resume  of  the  lecture. 

What  is  a  resuiri£#°°$$©W' krffgpshould  it  be?  Why  is 
this  a  good^Sy^^W^^ciissm9^  i$h  point  is  to  be 
clear,  the^e^ugstjgi^ w^fc.^ <$flf%ffiBy  reader'  must  be 
answered  0iTfe>fci£  $$u  .mip%imtwo\  si 

An  excellent  plan  fqr^  t^ngL TnpJ< &s ;  in ^a  Jecture-course  is  the 
following:  Set  down  nothing,  or  very  little,  while  the  lecture  is 
going  on,  devoting  instead  all  yjpur  f energy  to  listening.  Imme- 
diately after  class,  write  out  in,  saw,  i&ee  hundred  words,  a  re- 
sume of  the  lecturer's  remarks.  Such  a  resum6  will  include  only 
the  topics  discussed  and  the  conclusion)' reached.  The  student 
following  out  this  plan  forces  himself  to  listen  carefully,  and  to 
analyze  the  speaker's  ideas;  he  trains  his  own  memory  and  he 
develops  his  own  power  of  expression.  Limited  as  he  is  in  space, 
he  will  not  be  tempted  to  include  unimportant  matters,  while 
at  the  same  time  he  will  be  compelled  to  exercise  his  judgment 
concerning  what  is  important.  If  he  makes  these  resumes  care- 
fully and  sensibly,  he  will  have  at  the  end  of  the  course  a  group 
of  compact  statements,  review  of  which  is  easy  and  yet  entirely 
sufficient  for  the  student's  purpose. 

2.  Often  this  is  not  practicable.  Here  the  reader's  one 
question  will  be, — Why  not? 

But  often  this  plan  is  impracticable.  In  the  first  place,  it 
really  takes  some  training: — few  students  can  employ  it  satis- 
factorily without  preliminary  trial.  And  in  the  second  place, 
of  course,  classes  often  follow  one  immediately  after  another 
without  time  intervening  to  write  out  such  resumes. 


28  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

3.  To  attempt  to  note  down  everything  is  bad. 

Here  again,  the  reader's  questions  are, — Is  such  a  thing 
possible  ?  and  if  so,  why  is  it  bad  ? 

If,  then,  one  is  forced  to  take  his  notes  in  the  class-room,  what 
shall  he  do?  Shall  he  try  to  note  down  everything?  A  stenog- 
rapher of  course  could  do  so,  and  some  actually  perform  the  feat. 
But  such  a  plan  usually  involves  a  great  waste  of  energy,  besides 
utterly  failing  to  train  the  mind.  It  is  a  waste  of  energy,  because 
not  everything  the  lecturer  says  is  important.  His  introduc- 
tory remarks,  for  instance,  his  illustrative  anecdotes,  his  inci- 
dental opinions, — the  packing,  he>*4ises- to  Jteep  the  machinery  of 
his  thought  fron3*rafcJt$^£— fc^feM  up($£ood:xle#l  o^space,  but  they 
are  not  often  worth  the  .effort  of:  transcribing,,  and,  much  more 
important  still,  such  literal  transcription  deadens  the  mind,  not 
develops  it.  The  student  who  takes  notes  in  this  way  becomes 
as  mechanical  as  his  fountain  pen.  He  exercises  no  faculties  of 
either  judgment  or  jnemory.^  At  th#  end  of  the  course  he  has 
stowed  away  in  a  drawer  a  heavy  mass  of  more  or  less  useful  in- 
formation (in  most  cases  easily  accessible  elsewhere),  but  he  has 
made  no  progress  toward  the  end  for  which  the  class  was  de- 
signed— toward  learning  to  think. 

4.  The  order  of  importance  to  be  observed  in  writing 
things  down  is  (a)  references,  (b)  topics,  (c)  facts,  (d)  the 
lecturer's  opinions. 

Once  more,  obvious  questions  occur  to  the  reader. 
Exactly  what  is  meant  by  references,  topics,  facts,  opin- 
ions ?    Why  is  the  order  given  the  best  order  ? 

If,  then,  not  all  is  to  be  noted,  what  shall  be  chosen  ?  Certain 
things  must  be  noted.  Among  them  are  whatever  references  to 
other  writers  the  lecturer  gives  in  support  of  his  main  ideas, 
and  even  in  support  of  minor  matters.  Memory  will  not  serve 
unaided  to  keep  such  things  in  mind,  and  yet  for  any  concrete 
review  of  the  lecturer's  ideas,  in  the  mind  they  must  remain. 
Note  must  be  taken  also  of  the  main  topics  of  the  lectures. 
From  any  clear  lecture  these  topics  will  emerge;  if  the  lecture 
is  not  clear,  the  student  has  all  the  more  chance  to  exercise  his 
judgment.  Heads  and  subheads  may  not  be  enumerated  by 
the  lecturer,  but  they  will  exist,  and  good  notes  will  show  them 
in  their  order. 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  29 

Out  of  the  mass  of  the  lecture,  too,  some  facts  may  be  noted 
— chiefly  such  as  are  wholly  new  to  the  student,  and  are  intro- 
duced as  evidence.  Of  course,  too,  in  a  lecture  on  mathematics, 
chemistry,  physics,  and  kindred  subjects,  in  which  formulae  are 
involved  these  formulae  must  often  be  preserved.  But  ordi- 
narily, of  the  set  of  facts  offered,  the  student  should  note  few. 
Having  his  topics,  having  his  references,  he  can  later,  if  need  be, 
refresh  his  memory.  And  what  the  lecturer  personally  thinks, 
offers,  that  is,  as  incidental  opinion,  may  usually  without  loss 
be  omitted  from  a  student's  notes.  If  the  lecturer  considers  the 
opinion  of  value,  he  will  enlarge  upon  it,  make  it  a  considerable 
point  of  his  lecture;  if  he  does  not,  the  student  need  not  seek  to 
transcribe  it.  A  good  rule  is,  to  omit  any  statement  not  given 
as  a  head  or  subhead  of  the  lecture,  unless  the  lecturer  thinks  it 
so  important  that  he  repeats  it.  In  your  notes,  you  will  thus 
follow  his  own  unconscious  distribution  of  emphasis. 

5.  Various  devices  save  time  and  effort  in  note-taking. 
Here  the  reader's  one  question  is,  What  devices  ? 

In  all  note-taking,  the  student  should  remember,  first,  that 
nine  times  out  of  ten  it  is  the  substance,  not  the  wording,  which 
is  important  for  him,  and  second,  that  his  memory,  if  he  gives  it 
something  by  way  of  support,  may  be  trusted  to  carry  along 
the  connection  of  ideas.  A  lecture  on  Coleridge  might  be  fol- 
lowed thus: — Precocious  boy — his  eccentric  father — great  reader 
— Christ's  hospital — friendship  with  Lamb — shows  great  ability 
and  great  impulsiveness  early — runs  away  from  college — Southey 
and  Pantisocracy  (see  Traill,  p.  13) — odd  marriage — irresponsible 
career  (journalist,  lecturer,  diplomatist  at  Malta,  etc.) — takes 
opium  for  dyspepsia — walking  both  sides  of  path — friends  forced 
to  care  for  him — at  Highgate  (see  Carlyle,  John  Sterling ,  chap.  5). 

Such  notes  as  these  would  even  after  months  or  years  be  sug- 
gestive and  intelligible  to  anyone  who  had  heard  the  lecture. 

Abbreviation  of  words  is  so  easy  that  it  can  readily  be  carried  too 
far.  Among  other  things,  it  makes  the  notes  unintelligible  to  any 
but  the  writer.  It  is  better  to  pick  few  but  important  words  and 
write  them  out.  An  admirable  plan  is  to  leave  a  margin  at  the  left, 
and  when  the  lecturer  ends  a  subdivision  of  his  remarks,  sum  up  your 
paragraph  of  notes  in  a  marginal  sentence.  A  loose-leaved  notebook 
is  the  most  satisfactory  because  it  is  convenient,  and  because  notes 
for  allied  courses  can  subsequently  be  enclosed  in  one  cover. 


30  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

18.  The  Methods  of  Development. — Here,  then,  you 
have  a  possible  development  of  each  topic  of  your  general 
subject,  "How  to  Take  Notes  in  the  Class-Room."  This 
development  consists  in  thinking  out  the  questions  each  topic 
would  suggest  to  the  reader,  and  answering  them  in  detail. 
It  may  involve  definition  (a  brief  general  statement  of  the 
underlying  principle  of  the  matter  under  discussion),  ex- 
amples (concrete  instances  of  the  general  statement), 
comparison  or  contrast  (showing  in  the  matter  discussed 
the  elements  of  likeness  to  or  difference  from  something 
else  with  which  the  reader  is  familiar)  and  repetition — 
(saying  a  thing  more  than  once,  in  different  words). 

19.  Significance  of  Material. — Some  or  all  of  these 
methods  you  must  employ,  suiting  them  to  your  purpose. 
Your  success  or  failure  will  depend  principally  on  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  material  you  use — its  importance  for  your 
readers.  A  definition  which  does  not  really  define,  really 
make  the  underlying  principle  clear,  is  valueless.  Concrete 
examples  are  of  the  very  highest  importance.  Few  of  us 
can  reason  in  abstractions.  To  say  of  a  boy,  "  He  is  likely 
to  fail  in  life  because  he  does  not  carry  through  his  good 
impulses,"  is  to  be  fairly  clear;  but  to  add,  "He  studies 
hard  the  first  two  months,  and  loafs  after  Thanksgiving. 
He  buys  an  alarm-clock  and  forgets  to  wind  it.  He  writes 
to  his  sister  on  her  birthday  and  does  not  send  the  letter  be- 
cause he  has  run  out  of  stamps" — this  is  to  be  clearer  still. 

The  more  concrete  examples  are,  the  better.  But  con- 
crete examples,  to  be  effective,  must  be  real  instances  of 
what  you  mean.  So  again  with  comparisons  and  contrast. 
If  the  relationship  brought  out  is  with  something  the  reader 
knows,  and  is  really  apt — as  when  Victor  Hugo  likens  the 
battlefield  of  Waterloo  to  a  great  letter  A, — then  com- 
parison and  contrast  help  our  understanding  wonderfully. 
The  statement  that  the  action  of  a  steam-engine  is  like  that 


THE  WHOLE  COMPOSITION  31 

of  a  pump  reversed  has  assisted  many  an  unscientific  mind 
to  comprehend  the  principle  of  the  steam-engine.  But  the 
value  of  the  comparison  does  not  lie  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a 
comparison,  but  in  that  it  is  a  significant  comparison,  one 
that  means  something  definite  to  any  reader.  The  prob- 
lem of  development  then  resolves  itself  into  this :  To  think 
out  what  a  reader  really  would  like  to  know  about  each  of  your 
principal  statements,  and  to  tell  it  in  significant  detail. 

20.  Arrangement  of  Details. — That  the  details  of 
each  developed  topic  must  be  arranged  as  carefully  as  the 
topics  themselves,  is  a  point  never  to  be  forgotten.  Per- 
haps unskilful  writers  become  confused  more  frequently 
here  than  anywhere  else.  They  write  upon  subjects  they 
know  something  about;  they  get  a  sound  general  plan  of 
arrangement;  but  they  fail  because  they  do  not  carefully 
apply  any  principle  of  order  in  the  development  of  each 
successive  topic.  A  whole  composition  is  from  one  point 
of  view  really  a  group  of  smaller  compositions,  each  of 
which  must  be  solidly  organized.  But  the  discussion  of 
this  point  really  belongs  in  the  discussion  of  the  para- 
graph; see  p.  37. 

21.  Proportion. — Finally,  with  this  matter  of  develop- 
ment is  bound  up  the  principle  of  proportion.  How  shall 
you  decide  what  space  to  give  to  each  topic — whether  to 
develop  it  freely  and  at  length,  or  just  sufficiently  to  make 
your  point?  Your  own  judgment  of  the  relative  impor- 
tance of  the  different  topics  is  the  deciding  factor.  True, 
some  comparatively  unimportant  points  may  be  so  com- 
plicated or  so  unfamiliar  to  your  audience  that  to  make 
them  clear  you  must  explain  them  at  length;  and  on  the 
other  hand  a  most  important  matter  may  be  too  well 
known  to  require  elaboration.  Generally,  however,  your 
readers  will  take  the  amount  of  space  you  give  each  point  for 
your  own  estimate  of  its  relative  importance. 


SECTION  II, 

The  Paragraph. 

22.  What  is  Paragraphing? — It  is  plain  from  the  dis- 
cussion so  far  that  no  composition  of  any  length  is  an  un- 
divided unit.  Your  subject,  as  you  consider  it  in  your  own 
mind, splits  up  into  topics;  these  topics  often  split  again  into 
smaller  sub-topics.  For  the  reader's  convenience,  you  are 
expected  to  make  plain  by  a  mechanical  device  just  what 
these  topics  and  sub-topics  are.  This  mechanical  device, 
which  consists  of  deeply  indenting  the  first  line  which  con- 
cerns the  new  topic,  is  called  paragraphing.  Paragraph- 
ing is  of  less  importance  than  sound  arrangement  of  topics 
and  an  understanding  of  sentence-structure.  It  concerns 
written  composition  only,  whereas  power  to  develop  your 
ideas  and  a  knowledge  of  sentence-structure  are  equally 
necessary  to  both  writing  and  speaking.  Good  paragraph- 
ing, however,  is  of  great  help  to  any  reader.  To  some  ex- 
tent also,  paragraphing  is  a  matter  which  might  be  called 
good  form  in  composition ;  that  is  to  say,  it  is  governed  by 
convention,  and  if  you  violate  the  conventions  of  paragraph- 
ing you  are  thought  ignorant,  just  as  you  are  if  you  violate 
any  other  convention. 

A  paragraph,  it  is  plain,  must  usually  be  considered  from 
two  points  of  view.  First,  is  it  an  effective  treatment  of  the 
topic  with  which  it  deals  ?  Second,  is  it  in  a  clear  relation 
to  the  whole  composition  of  which  it  forms  a  part  ? 

23.  The  Length  of  the  Paragraph. — The  theory  of 
paragraphing  is  that  each  paragraph  should  deal  with  a 
particular  and  definite  part  of  the  main  subject,  and  with 


THE  PARAGRAPH  38 

that  part  only.  When  the  writer  passes  on  from  this  to  an- 
other part  of  his  subject,  he  makes  a  new  paragraph,  and 
so  notifies  the  reader  that  he  means  to  deal  with  a  new  point. 
The  indentation  of  the  paragraph  rings  a  bell  in  the  reader's 
mind,  warning  him  to  be  specially  attentive.  Now  it  will 
be  plain  that  if  this  bell  is  rung  every  two  or  three  lines,  its 
warning  must  become  monotonous  and  ineffective.  If 
again  a  very  long  time  passes  between  warnings,  the  read- 
er's attention  is  likely  to  drowse.  Therefore  convention 
joins  common-sense  to  suggest  a  reasonable  length  for  para- 
graphs, a  length  which  gives  opportunity  to  develop  an  idea 
freely,  but  does  not  weary  the  reader  to  inattention.  This 
length  is  in  most  good  newspaper  or  magazine  writing 
from  one  hundred  to  four  hundred  words,  and,  usually, 
nearer  one  hundred  than  four  hundred.  Examples  of  para- 
graphs much  longer  can  be  cited — compare,  for  instance, 
Green's  Short  History  of  the  English  People — but  such 
huge  units  are  not  desirable  of  imitation. 

24.  Length  in  Relation  to  Paragraph-Topics. — It  is 
not  to  be  supposed  that  you  can  meet  the  demands  of  good, 
that  is  to  say  helpful,  paragraphing  merely  by  dividing  your 
paper  into  chunks  of  one  to  four  hundred  words.  Each 
paragraph  must  be  on  a  definite  topic,  and  organized  pre- 
cisely, though  on  a  smaller  scale,  as  the  whole  composition 
is  organized.  But  what  shall  be  the  topics  of  the  successive 
paragraphs?  To  some  extent  your  choice  is  determined 
by  the  convention  of  length. 

Take  a  very  simple  example;  you  may  be  writing  on 
*' Three  Friends  of  Mine."  Obviously  you  might  divide 
your  paper  into  three  paragraphs.  But  if  your  paper  were 
of  seven  or  eight  hundred  words,  you  might  wish  to  make 
more  than  three  paragraphs.  You  could  then  use  the  fol- 
lowing as  topics:  (1)  My  First  Friend's  Life  and  Character. 
(2)  His  Influence  on  Me.     (3^  My  Second  Frond's  Life 


34  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

and  Character.  (4)  His  Influence  on  Me.  (5)  My  Third 
Friend's  Life  and  Character.  (6)  His  Influence  on  Me. 
The  demand  of  your  readers  that  every  paragraph  should 
be  on  a  definite  and  clear  topic  would  thus  be  met;  but  you 
would  have  six  shorter  paragraphs  instead  of  three  longer 
ones. 

25.  Emphasis  in  Relation  to  Paragraph-Topics. — 
A  factor  more  important  than  length  in  determining  your 
choice  of  paragraph  topics  should  be  your  desire  to  em- 
phasize certain  points.  This  is  a  phase  of  the  question  of 
Proportion,  already  mentioned  on  page  31.  Suppose  you 
are  trying  to  get  an  old  chum  to  join  you  at  college.  You 
write  both  to  him  and  to  his  parents,  and  the  general  plan 
*>f  your  letter  is  the  same  in  both  cases. 

1.  He  can  get  here  just  the  education  he  needs. 

2.  He  can  make  friends  who  will  be  valuable  to  himc 

3.  He  can  have  a  pleasant  time. 

4.  He  can  afford  it. 

But  in  writing  to  the  boy  himself  you  would  perhaps 
divide  thus: 

1.  You  can  get  the  education  you  need,  and  make  valuable 
friends  into  the  bargain. 

2.  You  can  have  a  good  time  socially. 

3.  You  can  play  on  one  of  the  athletic  teams. 

4.  You  can  get  into  an  excellent  fraternity. 

On  the  other  hand,  in  writing  to  his  parents,  your  division 
might  be: 

1.  He  can  get  just  the  general  education  he  needs. 

2.  He  can  specialize  to  great  advantage  in  engineering. 

3.  He  can  make  valuable  friends  and  have  a  pleasant  time. 

4.  Expenses  are  low  here. 

5.  He  can  earn  part  of  his  way. 


THE  PARAGRAPH  33 

You  wish,  in  other  words,  to  throw  the  emphasis  on 
different  matters,  in  the  two  cases;  and,  accordingly,  you 
give  a  greater  development  to  the  matters  you  wish  to 
emphasize. 

26.  The  Topic-Sentence. — Both  for  the  convenience  of 
the  reader  and  for  the  guidance  of  the  writer,  the  topic  of  a 
paragraph  is  often  stated  in  so  many  words ;  sometimes  at 
the  end,  but  most  commonly  near  the  beginning.  Such  a 
topic-sentence,  as  it  has  been  called,  may  be  thought  me- 
chanical, but  it  is  extraordinary  how  constantly  clear  writers! 
use  it.  Bryce  in  his  A  merican  Commonwealth,  for  example, 
and  John  Richard  Green  and  Macaulay  in  their  histories  of 
England,  almost  invariably  employ  topic-sentences. 

Successive  paragraphs  in  Green's  History  of  the  English 
People  dealing  with  the  development  of  English  literature 
in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth  begin  as  follows: 

(1)  The  full  glory  of  the  new  literature  broke  on  England 
with  Edmund  Spenser. 

(2)  The  appearance  of  The  Faerie  Queene  is  the  one  critical 
event  in  the  annals  of  English  poetry.  It  settled,  in  fact,  the 
question  whether  there  was  to  be  such  a  thing  as  English  poetry 
or  not. 

(3)  The  poem  expressed,  indeed,  the  very  life  of  the  time. 

(4)  If  The  Faerie  Queene  expressed  the  highest  elements  of 
the  Elizabethan  age,  all  of  that  age,  its  lower  elements  and  its 
higher  alike,  was  expressed  in  the  English  drama. 

(5)  Few  events  in  our  literary  history  are  so  startling  as  this 
sudden  rise  of  the  Elizabethan  drama. 

Now  anyone  who  reads  over  these  sentences  will  be 
struck  by  two  things:  first,  that  each  sentence  sets  down  in 
an  unmistakably  clear  fashion  a  topic  which  is  to  be  made 
comprehensible  by  development;  and  second,  that  these 
topics  as  here  set  down  are,  without  the  change  of  a  word, 
in  a  perfectly  clear  relation  to  each  other.    They  read  a* 


36  ESSENTIALS   OF  COMPOSITION 

coherently  as  if  each  had  been  originally  made  to  follow  its 
predecessor.  And  yet  in  Green's  History  sentence  1  is  de- 
veloped in  500  words,  sentence  2,  in  250,  sentence  3,  in 
1300,  sentence  4,  in  900,  and  sentence  5,  in  900.  In  other 
words,  these  five  sentences  which  read  so  coherently  are  in 
the  original  developed  without  an  unnecessary  detail  into 
3850  words!  Of  course  this  is  the  writing  of  a  trained 
author  and  a  careful  thinker.  But  inevitably  all  good 
writing,  except  narrative,  tends  to  develop  itself  around 
topic-sentences  in  the  paragraph ;  or  rather,  the  tendency  is 
strong  in  all  good  writing  to  express  the  idea  of  each  para- 
graph in  a  topic-sentence  so  formed  as  to  connect  itself 
readily  with  the  topic-sentence  of  the  paragraph  which  fol- 
lows. ; 

Let  us  take  another  example.  The  first  daily  paper  at 
hand  has  for  its  first  editorial  the  subject,  "Reciprocity 
Now,  or  an  Extra  Session?"  There  are  four  paragraphs. 
They  begin  as  follows: 

(1)  The  Washington  dispatches  describe  a  well-nigh  hopeless 
situation  for  the  enactment  of  Canadian  reciprocity  at  this  ses- 
sion of  Congress. 

(2)  The  men  of  influence  in  the  country  should  give  this  mat- 
ter their  immediate  attention. 

(3)  Failure  to  enact  now  evidently  involves  an  extra  session. 

(4)  What  say  our  great  business  interests  to  such  a  prospect? 

These  topics  are  developed  respectively  in  125,  125,  150, 
and  60  words.  The  elaboration  is  briefer  but  the  relation- 
ship of  topic  to  topic  is  just  as  clear  as  in  the  example  cited 
from  Green's  History. 

Evidently,  therefore,  in  all  writing  which  is  meant  pri- 
marily to  be  clear,  this  method  of  making  a  succession  of 
points  plain  may  be  adopted.  In  narration,  however,  such 
formal  statement  of  a  topic  is  not  often  made.     Events  fol- 


THE  PARAGRAPH  37 

low  one  another  in  the  simplest  of  all  orders,  the  chronologi- 
cal, and  the  reader  grasps  their  relationship  so  easily  that 
he  resents  the  interruption  of  a  topic-sentence. 

Exercise, 

Suggest  paragraph-topics  for  700-word  papers  on  such 
of  the  following  subjects  as  you  are  able  to  write  about. 
Write  a  topic-sentence  for  each  paragraph. 

1.  How  my  interest  has  developed  in  debating  (or  violin  play- 
ing, or  domestic  science,  or  whatever  you  may  be  interested  in). 

2.  The  Children's  Crusade. 

3.  Braddock's  defeat. 

4.  The  formation  of  glaciers. 

5.  My  best  day  last  summer. 

6.  If  some  one  gave  me  a  million  tomorrow. 

7.  A  summary  of  a  recent  lecture. 

8.  Impressions  of  college  up  to  the  present  time. 

9.  Some  features  of  my  own  town. 

10.  Dormitory  life. 

11.  The  longest  walk  I  ever  took. 

27.  Arrangement  of  Material  in  the  Paragraph. — 

A  good  topic  will  no  more  insure  a  sound  paragraph,  how- 
ever, than  a  good  subject  will  insure  a  sound  composition. 
Think  each  paragraph  out,  remembering  the  principles  of 
order.  Organize  each  paragraph  as  if  it  were  a  separate 
brief  composition  in  itself. 

Suppose  you  are  writing  on  the  management  of  a  high- 
school  dance.  Your  first  paragraph  is  on  the  organization 
of  the  preliminary  committees,  and  in  that  paragraph  you 
wish  to  discuss  three  points:  (1)  How  large  each  committee 
should  be,  (2)  whether  the  chairmen  should  be  boys  or  girls, 
and  (3)  how  many  committees  will  be  needed.  A  mo- 
ment's thought  will  show  that  this  order  as  given  is  illogical 


38  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

The  first  question  is  the  number  of  committees  needed, 
the  second  is  the  size  of  the  committees,  and  the  third  is 
their  organization.  Unless  the  points  in  the  paragraph 
are  handled  in  this  order,  the  paragraph  will  be  confused. 
As  the  paragraphs  of  the  untrained  writer  are  frequently 
confused,  so  are  they  frequently  unemphatic.  Even  the 
topic-sentence,  valuable  device  as  it  is,  has  often  the  de- 
fect of  unbalancing  the  emphasis.  You  make  the  state- 
ment of  your  topic  at  the  beginning  of  the  paragraph,  and 
then  trail  off  into  weakness.  Proper  emphasis  in  the  para- 
graph, as  in  the  whole  composition,  can  be  secured  only 
by  careful  arrangement.  The  value  of  a  firm  ending  is 
second  only  to  the  value  of  a  clear  beginning.  Compare 
the  following: 

I  began  now  gradually  to  pay  off  the  debt  I  was  under  for  the 
printing-house.  In  order  to  secure  my  credit  and  character  as 
a  tradesman  I  took  care  not  only  to  be  in  reality  industrious  and 
frugal,  but  to  avoid  all  appearances  to  the  contrary.  I  dressed 
plainly;  I  was  seen  at  no  places  of  idle  diversion.  I  never  went 
out  a-fishing  or  a-shooting;  a  book,  indeed,  sometimes  de- 
bauched me  from  my  work,  but  that  was  seldom,  snug,  and  gave 
no  scandal;  and  to  show  that  I  was  not  above  my  business,  I 
sometimes  brought  home  the  paper  I  purchased  at  the  stores 
through  the  streets  on  a  wheel-barrow.  Thus  being  esteemed 
an  industrious,  thriving  young  man,  and  paying  duty  for  what 
I  bought,  the  merchants  who  imported  stationery  solicited  my 
custom;  others  proposed  supplying  me  with  books,  and  I  went 
on  swimmingly.     (Franklin's  Autobiography;   adapted.) 

One  of  the  most  frequent  questions  in  arranging  the 
material  in  a  paragraph  is,  What  shall  I  do  with  such  and 
such  a  point,  which  is  essential,  but  not  big  enough  to  de- 
serve a  paragraph  to  itself?  For  instance,  you  are  writ- 
ing on  the  commission  form  of  government  for  munici- 
palities. You  have  paragraphs  on  its  birth,  its  early  de- 
velopment, and  so  on,  and  you  have  come  to  the  matter  of 


THE  PARAGRAPH  39 

its  relation  to  the  allied  scheme  of  the  "initiative  and 
referendum."  You  feel  that  you  ought  to  explain  what  the 
" initiative  and  referendum' '  are,  but  that  you  should  be 
brief  about  it,  for  it  is  not  principally  the  "initiative  and 
referendum"  that  you  are  interested  in,  but  its  close  re- 
lation in  general  to  the  commission  form  of  government. 
How  shall  you  build  into  a  paragraph  on  this  relation  some 
account  of  the  "initiative  and  referendum"  itself?  Note 
the  following: 

It  is  plain  that  the  commission  form  of  government  is  planned 
to  make  a  small  body  wholly  responsible  for  the  municipal  gov- 
ernment. Out  of  a  realization  that  such  complete  responsibility 
might  develop  into  tyranny  has  come  the  general  habit  of  asso- 
ciating with  the  commission  form  of  government  the  scheme  of 
the  "initiative  and  referendum."  According  to  this  scheme  a 
certain  percentage  of  voters  may  by  petition  initiate  legislation, 
that  is  to  say,  offer  an  ordinance  for  the  commission  to  vote 
upon;  and  on  the  other  hand  any  important  change  in  legisla- 
tion must  be  referred  to  the  voters,  who  at  a  special  election  ac- 
cept or  reject  it.  The  "initiative  and  referendum"  is  not,  how- 
ever, necessarily  a  part  of  the  commission  idea.  It  is  not  used 
for  instance  in  Denver,  which  is  under  commission  government, 
and  it  is  used  in  many  cities  which  are  not  managed  by  the  com- 
mission system.  The  likelihood  that  centralized  responsibility 
will  result  in  tyranny  seems  to  be  guarded  against  by  the  possi- 
bility of  frequent  elections,  and  by  the  arrangement  which  makes 
all  meetings  of  the  commission  public. 

It  seems  plain  that  this  "  building  in "  of  a  topic  can  be 
managed,  if  the  demands  of  proportion  (p.  31)  are  taken 
into  account. 

28. — The  Relation  of  the  Paragraph  to  the  Whole. — 
As  has  been  said,  a  paragraph  occupies  a  double  relation: 
it  is  a  composition  in  itself,  but  it  has  also  a  connection 
with  a  larger  composition  of  which  it  is  a  part.  It  is  your 
business  as  a  writer  to  make  this  connection  too  clear  to 
be  misunderstood.     If  you  have  properly  organized  your 


40  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

ideas,  most  of  your  trouble  is  over,  to  be  sure;  but  not  all. 
When  an  architect  designs  a  building,  he  indicates  what 
the  shape  of  the  larger  stones  is  to  be,  and  the  order  in 
which  they  are  to  be  laid.  They  come  numbered,  and  are 
put  in  place  accordingly;  but  to  keep  them  in  place  some- 
thing more, — steel  wire,  or  cement,  is  needed.  So  with 
your  paragraph.  Your  right  order  must  be  supplemented 
by  words,  phrases,  even  whole  sentences,  employed  merely 
for  holding  purposes — the  cement  of  composition.  i 

Sometimes,  as  often  in  simple  narration,  no  such  de- 
vices are  needed;  the  events  of  each  paragraph  follow 
obviously  upon  those  of  the  preceding  paragraph.  But  in 
most  writing,  the  opening  sentence  of  the  paragraph  is 
made  to  hook  on,  by  some  method,  to  what  has  just  pre- 
ceded. Compare  the  sentences  cited  from  J.  R.  Green  on 
page  35;  compare  also  the  following  succession  of  sen- 
tences from  Macaulay's  History  of  England: 

1.  Unfortunately  the  population  of  England  in  1685  cannot 
be  stated  with  perfect  accuracy. 

2.  We  are  not,  however,  left  without  the  means  of  correcting 
the  wild  blunders  into  which  some  minds  were  hurried.  There 
are  extant  three  computations.  .  .  . 

3.  One  of  these  computations  was  made  in  the  year  1696. 

4.  About  the  same  time  King  William  III  .  .  . 

5.  Lastly,  in  our  own  days,  Mr.  Finlaison  .  .  . 

6.  Of  these  three  estimates  .  .  . 

It  is  plain  that  in  every  case  Macaulay  uses  the  opening 
sentence  of  each  paragraph  to  show  the  relation  of  that 
paragraph  to  what  has  gone  before.  The  ways  of  indi- 
cating this  relationship  may  be  classified  under  five  heads: 

1.  Sentences  used  exclusively  for  purposes  of  sub-con- 
nection. 

Let  us  now  leave  the  subject  of  fly-casting,  and  consider  fish- 
ing with  worms. 


THE  PARAGRAPH  41 

2.  Relation  words.  These  are  words  indicating  merely 
sequence,  such  as  first,  secondly,  finally,  next,  furthermore, 
again;  words  of  contrast,  such  as  but,  notwithstanding, 
however,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  other  hand;  words  indicat- 
ing cause  and  result,  such  as  therefore,  hence,  because,  for, 
consequently,  on  account  of.  A  vocabulary  of  such  words 
and  phrases  is  essential.  For  the  position  of  such  words 
in  the  sentence,  see  page  74. 

3.  Reference  words.  Such  reference  words,  pronouns 
and  pronominal  adverbs  and  adjectives,  carry  back  the 
mind  to  what  has  just  been  said. 

One  of  these  computations  was  made  in  the  year  1696  .  .  . 
About  the  same  time  King  William  .  .  . 

4.  Repetition.  Repetition  of  words  or  phrases  carries 
the  mind  back,  as  reference  does,  to  some  previous  state- 
ment. 

There  are  three  computations  .  .  .  One  of  these  computa- 
tions ...    Of  these  three  estimates  .  .  . 

5.  Special  order  of  words  and  phrases.  By  the  use 
of  some  special  order  of  words  in  the  opening  sentence 
of  a  paragraph,  its  relation  to  what  has  gone  before  is  fre- 
quently emphasized.  Suppose  you  have  a  paragraph  on 
reading  aloud  as  a  help  in  understanding  sentence-struc- 
ture. Your  next  paragraph  may  begin :  There  are,  however, 
other  advantages  to  be  gained  from  such  a  practice.  The  re- 
lation will  be  fairly  clear.  But  it  will  be  still  more  clear  L 
the  second  paragraph  begins:  Other  advantages,  however, 
there  are  to  be  gained  from  such  a  practice.  Here  the  words 
other  advantages,  placed  at  the  beginning  of  the  sentence, 
tack  on  so  closely  to  the  preceding  paragraph  that  nobody 
can  miss  the  connection. 


SECTION  in. 

The  Sentence* 

29.  What  the  Sentence  Is. — A  sentence  is  most  com- 
monly defined  as  the  grammatically  complete  expression  of 
a  thought.  It  demands  a  subject  and  a  predicate,  both  usu- 
ally expressed,  one  sometimes  only  implied.  The  reader 
demands  from  a  sentence  just  what  he  demands  from  a  para* 
graph  and  a  whole  composition, — a  clear  and  definite  idea. 
In  the  sentence,  as  in  the  whole  composition  and  the 
paragraph,  this  clear  and  definite  idea  may  be  made  up  of 
lesser  ideas.  "  The  dog  runs"  is  clear  and  definite;  "the 
little  brown  dog  runs  with  a  stick  in  his  mouth"  is  equally 
clear  and  definite,  though  complicated  by  more  than  one 
thought.  "Many  had  been  killed"  is  clear  and  definite;  so 
is  "many  more  had  been  wounded";  so  is  "a  very  large 
number  had  deserted"  Let  us  put  these  three  statements 
into  one  sentence.  "Many  had  been  killed,  many  more 
had  been  wounded,  and  a  very  large  number  had  deserted" 
The  combination  is  clear  and  definite;  the  lesser  ideas 
sum  up  to  equal  the  statement  that  the  army  was  in  bad 
condition. 

A  sentence  then  is  not  necessarily  the  expression  of  a 
nngle  thought,  but  the  expression  of  a  group  of  thoughts 
which  form  a  clear  and  definite  whole. 

30.  Kinds  of  Sentences. — There  are  different  kinds  of 
sentences.  A  sentence  may  be  simple,  that  is  consist  of 
one  independent  clause,  or  complex,  that  is  consist  of  one 
independent  clause  and  one  or  more  dependent  clauses :  or 
compound,  that  is  be  made  up  of  more  than  one  independ* 

42 


THE  SENTENCE  43 

ent  clause;  or  compound-complex,  that  is  be  made  up  of 
more  than  one  independent  clause  and  one  or  more  de- 
pendent clauses. 

We  stopped.     (Simple.) 

We  stopped,  not  knowing  where  we  were,     (Complex.) 

We  stopped  and  listened,  but  there  was  no  further  sound. 
(Compound.) 

We  stopped,  not  knowing  where  we  were,  but  when  the  sound 
ceased  we  again  went  forward.     (Compound-complex.) 

An  independent  clause,  as  its  name  implies,  is  one  that 
can  stand  alone.  A  dependent  clause  is  one  that  cannot 
stand  alone,  but  requires  grammatical  assistance  from  an 
independent  clause. 

We  stopped,  because  we  did  not  know  where  we  were.  We 
dared  not  move  in  either  direction. 

The  dependent  clause  is  because  we  did  not  know  where 
we  were.  It  may  either  be  added,  as  here,  to  the  inde- 
pendent clause  we  stopped,  or  prefixed  to  the  independent 
clause  we  dared  not  move  in  either  direction.  But  such  a 
dependent  clause  cannot  stand  by  itself;  as  a  sentence  it 
is_incomplete.  Incomplete  sentences  are  usually,  as  in 
the  example  given,  the  result  of  bad  punctuation.  Some 
writers,  as  Ruskin  and  Kipling,  now  and  then  deliber- 
ately so  punctuate,  but  an  unpractised  writer  cannot 
afford  to  do  so. 

31.  The  Essentials  of  a  Good  Sentence. — Behind 
clearness  and  definiteness  in  the  sentence  lie  two  things — 
(1)  correct  grammar,  (2)  sound  organization.  Any  given 
sentence  may  fail  in  one  or  both.  But  they  may  be  ana* 
lyzed  separately. 

32.  Grammar  a  Matter  of  Usage. — In  English,  as  in 
other  languages,  usage  has  prescribed  certain  forms  for 


44  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

showing  the  relation  of  one  word  in  the  sentence  to  the 
others.  These  prescribed  forms,  which  make  up  gram- 
mar, the  writer  must  necessarily  know.  The  best  way  to 
learn  them  is  as  a  child,  by  unconscious  absorption  from 
reading  and  the  talk  of  educated  people.  There  are  plenty 
of  six-year-olds  who  use  shall  and  will  properly,  who  can 
steer  a  straight  course  through  their  pronouns,  and  who 
know  correctly  the  forms  of  such  verbs  as  they  know  at  all 
They  cannot  write;  but  when  they  come  to  learn  to  write, 
they  will  have  no  difficulty  with  sentence-structure.  The 
other  and  the  only  other  way  to  learn  these  various  forms 
is  by  practice  in  whatever  one  writes  and  speaks — every- 
where, not  only  in  English  courses.  An  hour's  study  of  a 
text-book  on  composition  will  be  worthless  if  followed  by 
a  week  of  careless  speech  in  mathematics  and  history,  or 
of  careless  writing  in  letters  or  examinations.  One  must 
either  know  instinctively  these  rules  of  English  grammar 
and  turns  of  idiom  from  years  of  constant  hearing;  or,  if  he 
has  not  been  fortunate  in  this  respect,  he  must  grind  them 
into  his  experience  by  constant  practice. 

33.  Solecisms. — Violations  of  grammar  are  called  Sol* 
ecisms.  The  principal  violations  may  be  considered  for 
convenience  under  five  heads. 

(1)  Arrangement.  (2)  Reference.  (3)  Co-ordination 
and  Subordination.     (4)  Ellipsis.     (5)  Verb-forms. 

34.  Arrangement. — English  is  largely  an  uninflected 
language;  that  is  to  say,  its  words  do  not  change  in  form 
to  indicate  grammatical  relations.  In  Latin,  one  may 
write,  Nero  interfecit  Agrippinam,  or  Nero  Agrippinam 
interfecit,  or  Agrippinam  interfecit  Nero;  the  meaning  will 
be  in  every  case,  Nero  killed  Agrippina.  But  in  English 
Nero  killed  Agrippina  means  one  thing,  Agrippina  killed 
Nero  means  quite  another,  and  Nero  Agrippina  killed  is 
yague  and  awkward.    To  a  great  extent,  then,  in  English, 


THE  SENTENCE  45 

the  meaning  results  not  from  the  form  of  the  words  but 
from  their  relative  positions.  This  fact  leads  sometimes 
to  agreeable  absurdities. 

Sidney  was  a  tall  man,  with  amber-colored  hair,  erect  and 
strong. 

Donahue  smothered  the  flames  that  enveloped  his  friend  in 
bedquilts. 

But  the  humor  disappears  very  quickly  as  one  tries  to  get 
the  meaning  from  such  a  sentence  as  the  following: 

I  saw  him  from  the  window  of  a  car  yesterday  going  down 
Cottage  Grove  Avenue. 

Going  down  Cottage  Grove  Avenue  yesterday,  I  saw  him 
from  the  window  of  a  car?  From  the  window  of  a  car 
yesterday,  I  saw  him  going  down  Cottage  Grove  Avenue  ? 
Yesterday,  I  saw  him  from  the  window  of  a  car  going  down 
Cottage  Grove  Avenue  ?   Here  are  three  possible  meanings. 

Moss  grows  on  the  roof  also 

Does  this  mean  that  moss  grew  on  the  roof  as  well  as  on 
the  walls,  or  that  moss  as  well  as  something  else  grew  on  the 
roof? 

I  only  saw  him. 

Does  this  mean  I  saw  nobody  else,  or  nobody  saw  him 
but  me? 

The  fundamental  rule  of  arrangement  is  this :  Keep  mod- 
rfier8  close  to  the  words  they  modify. 

There  will  be  an  address  at  three  o'clock  on  the  making  of 
the  King  James  Version  of  the  Bible  by  W.  J.  Bryan,  lasting 
half  an  hour. 


46  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Here  two  modifiers  of  address ,  namely,  by  W«  J.  Bry<m% 
and  lasting  half  an  hour,  are  separated  from  the  word  they 
modify.     Make  the  sentence  read: 

At  three  o'clock,  there  will  be  an  address  lasting  half  an  hom- 
by  W.  J.  Bryan,  etc. 

Better  still  would  be: 

At  three  o'clock  W.  J*  Bryan  will  speak  for  half  an  hour  on, 
etc, 

Thus  all  confusion  is  avoided. 

One  of  the  largest  caves  in  Indiana,  which  has  only  been  dis- 
covered recently,  is  in  Posey  County, 

Simple  transposition  of  modifying  phrases  and  clauses 
will  not  do  here.     True,  we  might  say, 

In  Indiana,  one  of  the  largest  caves,  which  has  only  been  dis- 
covered recently,  is  in  Posey  County. 

But  this  is  awkward.    Better: 

One  of  the  largest  caves  in  Indiana  has  only  recently  been  dis- 
covered in  Posey  County. 

Note  the  change  in  the  position  of  the  word  only.  The 
theory  is  that  only  and  similar  limiting  adverbs,  such  as 
certainly,  also,  even,  govern  the  word  or  phrase  which  im- 
mediately follows  them. 

He  saw  only  four  of  us.  He  hated  even  his  orother.  Send  goods 
as  ordered  also  to  me  till  further  notice. 

This  rule  is  not  universally  applied,  and  so  loses  much 
©f  its  effectiveness.    You  must  be  careful,  therefore,  in 


THE  SENTENCE  47 

using  such  words  to  place  them  so  that  their  relation  cannot 
possibly  be  ambiguous.  If  despite  your  best  efforts  at 
transposition  the  possibility  of  ambiguity  remains,  recast 
the  sentence  altogether. 

Correlative  conjunctions,  either  .  .  .  or,  neither  .  .  . 
nor,  whether  .  .  .  or,  demand  special  care  in  arrangement. 
u Either  he  or  I  must  go"  is  correct;  so  is  "He  must  either 
go  or  give  good  reason  for  not  going"  On  the  other  hand, 
"He  must  either  go  or  I  must"  is  awkward,  and  "He  must 
fither  go  if  we  ask  him  or  his  brother"  is  both  awkward  and 
obscure.  If  the  first  of  such  a  pair  of  conjunctions  is  fol- 
lowed by  a  noun  or  pronoun,  let  the  second  also  be  followed 
by  a  noun  or  pronoun ;  if  the  first  is  followed  by  a  verb,  let 
the  second  be  followed  by  a  verb.    This  is  the  safest  rule. 

35.  Reference. — Closely  allied  to  arrangement  is  refer- 
ence. Many  words — pronouns,  adverbs,  adjectives — are 
used  to  refer  the  reader  to  some  idea  already  stated  or  about 
to  be  stated. 

Yesterday  I  saw  the  president.    He  seems  very  good-natured. 
Friends,  comforts,  peace  of  mind,  all  such  things  he  resigned. 
I  suggested  a  walking-tour  in  the  Adirondacks,  and  this  sug- 
gestion was  finally  adopted. 

The  reference  is  theoretically  to  an  idea.  Grammatical 
usage,  however,  based  on  common-sense,  demands  that  the 
reference  shall  always  be  to  a  particular  word. 

Three  errors  are  common,  (1)  incorrect  reference,  (2)  am* 
biguous  reference,  (3)  obscure  reference. 

1.  Incorrect  reference  is  failure  to  make  the  reference- 
word  agree  in  number  with  the  word  to  which  it  refers.  It 
occurs  most  often  (a)  following  certain  distributive  pro- 
nouns; anybody,  everybody,  nobody,  everyone,  (b)  following 
group-words,  such  as  crowd,  flock,  family,  hundred,  dozen, 
etc.,  (c)  following  phrases  in  which  two  or  more  nouns, 


48  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

singular  or  plural,  have  been  used,  and  the  writer  has  care* 
lessly  lost  track  of  what  he  is  referring  to. 

(a)  The  distributives  mentioned  are  all  singular. 

Everybody  said  he  (not  they)  had  had  a  good  time. 

Nobody  dared  to  say  that  he  (not  they)  would  undertake  ik 

(b)  Group-words  may  be  considered  singular  or  plural 
as  the  writer  chooses,  but  when  he  has  made  his  choice  ha 
must  stick  to  it  throughout  the  passage. 

The  crowd  was  so  dense  we  could  hardly  get  through  iU  It 
almost  trampled  us  to  bits. 

The  crowd  were  threatening  us,  but  we  paid  no  attention  to 
them. 

He  offered  me  two  dollars  and  naturally  I  took  it. 

Here  are  a  hundred  dollars;   spend  them  wisely. 

The  family  had  been  kind  to  me;  why  should  I  not  be  grateful 
to  theml 

When  I  saw  the  family,  I  was  annoyed  by  it 

These  are  all  correct  references;  but  the  following  are 
incorrect: 

The  crowd  was  so  dense  we  could  hardly  get  through  it.  They 
almost  trampled  us  to  bits. 

Here  are  a  hundred  dollars;  it  is  all  I  have.     Spend  them  wisely. 

The  family  was  kind  to  me,  why  should  I  not  be  grateful  to 
theml 

(c)  In  such  phrases  as  the  following  the  careless  writer 
has  lost  track  of  what  he  is  referring  to. 

The  language  of  flowers  is  well  known,  and  in  every  cheap  pub- 
lication there  are  references  to  them. 

A  passage  such  as  this  among  his  earlier  writings,  which  are 
not  unusual,  show  that  even  by  1800  he  had  begun  to  condemn 
slavery. 


THE  SENTENCE  49 

2.  A  reference  is  ambiguous  when  mere  than  one  word 
may  possibly  be  the  word  referred  to. 

He  told  his  brother  that  his  life  was  in  danger.     (Whose  life?) 
Elsie  went  straight  to  Sarah  and  taking  the  pin  fastened  it  in 
the  front  of  her  dress.     (Whose  dress?) 

The  fight  over  the  proposed  Bowler  gas  ordinance  will  come 
to  a  crisis  tonight  at  the  council  meeting.  It  is  conceded  that 
it  will  pass.     (Does  it  refer  to  fight,  ordinance,  crisis,  or  meeting?) 

3.  Obscurity  of  reference  occurs  when  the  idea  referred  to 
has  not  been  expressed  in  one  particular  word. 

I  suggested  a  walking  tour  in  the  Adirondacks,  and  this  was 
finally  adopted.     (What  was  adopted?) 

The  fishermen's  huts  were  somewhat  scattered,  yet  near 
enough  so  that  they  could  be  assembled  at  the  sound  of  a  drum. 

Gambling  is  permitted  there,  and  the  same  is  true  of  many 
other  places. 

Journalism  is  an  easy  profession  for  a  boy  to  get  into,  and  some 
of  them  make  money  in  it. 

If  a  rabbit's  foot  is  to  be  worth  anything,  it  must  be  caught  in 
a  graveyard  in  the  dark  of  the  moon. 

The  remedy  for  all  faults  of  reference  is  the  same:  Refer 
always  to  some  one  particular  word,  and  let  that  word  be 
perfectly  clear  to  the  reader. 

Exercise. 
What  is  wrong  in  the  following  sentences  ? 

1.  I  give  these  few  examples  of  cases  I  know  about  and  I  hear 
the  same  is  true  in  other  rooms. 

2.  Every  person  in  the  cast  was  dressing  for  their  parts. 

3.  On  the  water's  edge  are  seats  protected  by  a  roof  where  one 
may  sit  and  watch  the  bathers. 

4.  At  each  pile  of  brush  one  of  us  would  lay  down  our  gun  and 
^hake  the  leaves  while  the  others  stood  ready  to  shoot. 


50  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

5.  I  know  of  a  firm  dealing  with  European  countries  in  which 
no  one  understands  foreign  languages;  so  that  they  are  obliged 
to  send  them  out  to  a  woman  who  translates  them  for  twenty- 
five  cents  a  letter. 

6.  In  college  one  Learns  how  to  act  among  strangers,  which 
will  help  him  to  get  acquainted  in  the  business  world. 

7.  The  work  of  the  wind  is  a  very  important  subject  since  it 
greatly  affects  the  surface  of  the  earth  and  consequently  man- 
kind. 

8.  It  was  one  of  those  little  states  which  composed  the  empire 
controlled  by  insignificant  princes. 

9.  I  have  never  become  a  good  reader  and  I  think  this  is  due 
to  lack  of  practise  when  a  child. 

10.  It  is  far  better  to  inflict  bodily  punishment  than  to  de- 
prive a  child  of  his  play,  which  is  very  bad  for  his  health. 

11.  As  every  school  is  interested  in  athletics,  they  would  give 
Mr.  Parker  a  cordial  welcome  if  he  came  to  aid  them. 

12.  He  pulled  out  an  old  red  bandanna,  violently  blew  his 
somewhat  ample  Roman  nose,  and  then  stuffed  it  into  his  pocket. 

13.  There  are  numerous  business  men  who  advertise  in  the 
paper  which  gives  it  its  financial  support. 

14.  He  began  to  look  on  everyone  who  approached  him  with 
the  belief  that  he  was  going  to  do  something  to  him. 

15.  They  wore  a  mantle  with  long  sleeves  over  their  tunic,  a 
scapular  around  their  neck  which  reached  to  their  knees  in  front, 
and  a  cord  about  their  waist. 

36.  Co-ordination  and  Subordination. — There  are  in 
English  certain  conjunctions,  and,  but,  or,  nor,  for,  which 
are  called  co-ordinating  because  they  are  used  to  connect 
parts  of  the  sentence  of  equal  grammatical  value  and  similar 
form.  A  noun  for  example  is  equal  in  grammatical  value 
with  another  noun,  a  phrase  with  a  phrase,  a  participial 
clause  with  a  participial  clause,  a  relative  clause  with  a 
relative  clause,  an  independent  clause  with  an  independent 
clause.  These  co-ordinate  conjunctions  cannot  properly 
be  used  to  connect  parts  of  the  sentence  of  unequal  gran> 
matical  value. 


THE  SENTENCE  51 

It  is  proposed  to  remove  the  duty  on  Canadian  flour,  but  the 
Canadians  may  retain  the  duty  on  flour  coming  from  the  United 
States. 

Here  but  is  made  to  connect  the  dependent  clause :  "  to 
remove  the  duty"  with  the  independent  clause,  "The 
Canadians  may  retain." 

He  sent  her  a  message  full  of  tenderness,  and  which  she  never 
forgot. 

This  is  the  so-called  u  and  which  construction."  And  is 
made  to  connect  an  adjective-phrase,  "full  of  tenderness" 
with  a  relative  clause  "  which  she  never  forgot."  Examples 
of  such  use  by  good  writers  can  be  cited,  but  it  has  not  be- 
come idiomatic. 

He  was  not  a  man  accustomed  to  give  way  to  his  temper,  or 
acting  violently. 

Here  the  infinitive  clause  "to  give  way  to  his  temper" 
is  connected  by  "or"  with  the  participial  clause  "acting 
violently." 

Twenty  thousand  people  saw  three  riders  hurled  from  their 
machines,  but  escaping  serious  injuries,  in  the  motorcycle  races 
at  River  view  last  night. 

Here  and  is  made  to  connect  hurled  and  escaping — 
words  of  equal  grammatical  value  but  dissimilar  in  form. 

When  confusion  or  awkwardness  results  from  co-ordi- 
nate construction,  the  practical  writer  tries  to  subordinate 
one  construction.  He  changes  an  independent  clause  to 
a  dependent,  or  a  dependent  clause  to  a  phrase,  or  a 
phrase  to  a  word.  By  way  of  illustration  let  us  take  the 
sentence,  The  valley  was  flooded,  and  we  had  hard  work  to 
get  through.     Subordinating  one  independent  clause,  we 


52  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

may  write,  The  valley  was  so  flooded  that  we  had  hard  work 
to  get  through.  Further  subordinating  a  dependent  clause, 
we  may  write,  The  valley  was  so  flooded  that  we  got  through 
only  with  great  difficulty.  Still  further  subordinating,  we 
may  write,  We  got  through  the  flooded  valley  only  with  great 
difficulty.  Of  course  the  fact  that  these  subordinations 
often  involve  a  slight  difference  of  meaning  must  be  taken 
into  account.  They  all  tend  to  reduce  the  number  of 
words  and  particularly  of  finite  verbs  used.  Hence  they 
are  often  called  the  reduction  of  predication.  Other  ex- 
amples follow: 

j      1.  We  proceeded  some  distance  and  finally  came  to  an  open 
J  glade  on  the  skirts  of  the  forest. 

}      2.  After  proceeding  some  distance,  we  finally  came  to  an 
I  open  glade  on  the  skirts  of  the  forest. 

/  1.  Of  course  many  plans  suggest  themselves  and  the  only 
difficulty  is  to  decide  which  one  is  best  and  can  be  scientifically 
carried  out. 

12.  Of  course  many  plans  present  themselves,  and  the  diffi- 
culty is  to  decide  on  the  best  and  most  practicable. 
3.  The  real  difficulty  is  to  decide  on  the  best  and  most 
practicable  of  the  many  plans  that  suggest  themselves. 

(  1.  We  went  in  the  machine  as  far  up  as  Watertown,  and 
there  we  had  to  leave  it  and  take  a  train  which  carried  us  to 
Brownsville,  and  from  Brownsville  we  could  only  go  on  horse- 
back. 

2.  We  went  in  the  machine  as  far  up  as  Watertown.  There 
we  had  to  leave  it  and  take  a  train  for  Brownsville.  From 
Brownsville  we  could  only  go  on  horseback. 

3.  We  went  by  the  machine  as  far  up  as  Watertown. 
Leaving  the  car  there,  we  went  to  Brownsville  by  train  and 
thence  on  horseback. 

4.  We  went  in  the  machine  as  far  up  as  Watertown,  thence 
^by  train  to  Brownsville,  and  from  there  on  horseback. 

Colloquial  speech  employs  as  co-ordinating  conjunctions 
a  number  of  words  which  are  really  subordinate,  or  even  in 


THE  SENTENCE  53 

their  effect  adverbial  only.  These  words  are,  accordingly, 
besides,  consequently,  hence,  however,  moreover,  nevertheless, 
therefore,  and  in  particular  so.  The  effect  of  their  careless 
use  may  be  seen  in  the  following  sentences: 

The  morning  was  cold,  hence  we  all  took  sweaters. 

She  paid  no  attention  to  his  remarks,  therefore  he  relapsed 
into  silence. 

She  ran  as  fast  as  she  could,  however,  she  missed  it  by  two 
minutes. 

I  was  tired,  so  I  sat  down. 

The  house  had  been  shut  up  for  months,  so  the  musty  odor 
was  very  strong. 

He  had  never  told,  so  how  could  we  know? 

To  correct  the  awkwardness  of  such  sentences  we  must 
either  subordinate  one  clause: 

The  morning  being  cold,  we  all  took  sweaters. 

As  the  morning  was  cold  we  all  took  sweaters. 

He  relapsed  into  silence  because  she  paid  no  attention  to  his 
remarks. 

Though  she  ran  as  fast  as  she  could  she  missed  it  by  two 
minutes. 

As  I  was  tired,  I  sat  down. 

Or  else  we  must  establish  some  co-ordinate  relationship 
between  the  parts  of  the  sentence  the  conjunctions  are  sup- 
posed to  connect.    We  may  add  a  co-ordinate  conjunction: 

I  was  tired,  and  so  I  sat  down. 

The  hour  was  late,  but  nevertheless  he  stayed  on. 

Or  we  may  use  a  semi-colon: 

I  was  tired;   so  I  sat  down. 

The  hour  was  late;   nevertheless  he  stayed  on. 

Or  we  may  put  each  statement  in  a  separate  sentence: 


54  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

I  was  tired.    So  I  sat  down. 

The  hour  was  late.    Nevertheless  he  stayed  on. 

Note.  So,  the  worst  and  most  constant  betrayer  of  the  young 
writer's  confidence,  should  not  be  confused  with  so  that,  a  per- 
fectly respectable  subordinating  conjunction. 

Exercise. 

1.  We  were  cold  and  hungry  from  the  long  exposure,  besides 
neither  of  us  knew  the  way,  accordingly  we  turned  back  and  re- 
traced our  steps  painfully  as  best  we  might. 

2.  She  left  the  room  in  a  rage,  her  eyes  blazing,  and  slamming 
the  door  after  her. 

3.  I  could  not  go  to  sleep,  so  decided  I  would  spend  the  time 
studying. 

4.  The  books  had  been  ordered  weeks  before  the  opening  of 
the  school,  however  did  not  arrive  in  time. 

5.  He  wrote  very  incorrectly,  but  trying  his  best  to  make  her 
understand  his  real  feeling  on  the  subject. 

6.  She  discovered  that  she  had  made  a  mistake  in  adding  the 
left-hand  column,  henCe  all  the  confusion. 

7.  He  went  to  the  house  to  see  if  anyone  there  had  heard  the 
news,  and  thinking  perhaps  that  the  boy  had  left  a  note  on  the 
dresser. 

8.  The  ice-cream  always  turned  out  badly,  either  frozen  too 
hard,  or  melting  into  a  liquid. 

9.  He  had  explained  in  person  that  he  would  be  unable  to 
come,  therefore  he  thought  a  letter  unnecessary. 

10.  In  a  flash  she  understood  the  truth  of  the  whole  situation 
and  saw  with  relentless  vision  its  inevitable  consequences  for 
herself,  nevertheless  she  continued  looking  at  him  as  though  he 
had  not  spoken. 

11.  Neither  the  sun  nor  the  north  star  was  visible,  so  we  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  of  direction. 

12.  He  fell  off  the  bicycle  and  sprained  his  ankle,  but  saving 
the  basket  of  eggs. 

13.  He  had  left  the  house  in  an  ugly  mood,  moreover  the  time 
elapsing  in  the  journey  had  permitted  his  smouldering  sense  of 
injustice  to  eat  its  way  to  the  surface. 

14.  However  badly  he  expressed  himself,  he  always  had  some- 


THE  SENTENCE  55 

thing  to  say,  besides  he  had  never  had  the  training  and  advan- 
tages of  the  others. 

15.  The  cottage  was  situated  in  the  woods  on  the  bluff,  and 
having  a  most  beautiful  view  over  Lake  Michigan. 

37.  Ellipsis. — Ellipsis  is  the  omission  of  words  which  are 
to  be  understood  from  the  context.  Deliberate  ellipsis  is 
common  and  often  desirable. 

Father  was  arrayed  against  son,  brother  against  brother. 

Here  the  words  was  arrayed  are  omitted  from  the  second 
clause,  because  they  can  be  understood  from  the  context. 

Chosen  almost  unanimously,  he  took  his  seat. 

The  words  having  been  are  omitted.  But  these  omis- 
sions, often  wise,  sometimes  lead  to  obscurity. 

Dayton  is  nearer  Pittsburgh  than  Chicago. 

Than  to  Chicago  ?  Than  Chicago  is  ?  Nobody  but  the 
writer  can  tell. 

She  likes  me  less  than  you. 

Than  you  do  ?  Than  she  does  you  ?  Or  these  omissions 
may  lead  less  to  obscurity  than  to  awkwardness. 

I  am  so  much  obliged. 
I  am  so  unhappy. 

How  much  is  so  much?  So  much  that  I  cannot  ex- 
press  it?  How  unhappy  is  so  unhappy?  So  unhappy 
that  I  wish  I  had  never  been  born  ?  So,  in  this  and  similar 
constructions,  theoretically  requires  completion  by  some 
dependent  clause.  The  absence  of  such  a  clause  may  be 
atoned  for  by  substituting  an  exclamation-point.    But  the 


56  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

use  of  the  "feminine  so,"  as  it  has  been  called,  is  best 
avoided  altogether. 

Being  a  friendly  sort  of  man,  she  got  on  easily  with  him. 

This  type  of  error  is  very  common.  It  is  a  misunder- 
standing of  the  Latin  "absolute  construction" — He  being 
a  friendly  sort  of  man,  she  got  on  easily  with  him.  (See 
page  65.)  This  is  sufficiently  awkward  in  itself,  to  Eng- 
lish taste;  but  when  the  subject  of  the  participle  is  omitted 
the  result  is  most  unfortunate.  Other  participial  clauses 
also  lend  themselves  to  awkward  elisions. 

Going  home,  the  wind  blew  very  strongly. 
Leaving  the  square,  the  next  object  of  interest  is  the  monument. 
Greek  is  excellent  for  discipline,  and  when  honestly  pursued 
you  can  expect  to  profit  by  it. 

A  good  rule  is  this:  Never  omit  words  unless  exactly 
those  words  can  be  supplied  from  the  context. 

In  girlhood  she  was  sympathetic,  in  womanhood  beautiful, 
in  old  age  tender. 

Here  the  ellipses  are  justifiable  because  the  words 
omitted  {she  was)  can  be  supplied  from  the  context. 

I  was  old,  they  young;  and  I  envied  them. 

Here  the  ellipsis  is  not  justifiable,  because  the  word  were, 
which  is  needed  before  young,  cannot  be  supplied  from  the 
context. 

One  sort  of  ellipsis  needs  special  mention — the  omission 
of  the  article  (a  or  the). 

He  read  from  the  Old  and  New  Testament. 
A  tall  and  fat  man  were  standing  side  by  side. 


THE  SENTENCE  57 

In  both  cases,  the  omission  of  the  article  is  confusing. 
The  rule  is,  the  article  must  distinguish  each  person  or 
thing  mentioned. 

Exercise. 

Comment  on  the  desirability  or  undesirability  of  the 
ellipses  in  the  following  sentences: 

1.  Around  her  mouth  are  the  deep  lines  of  care,  and  engraved 
on  her  forehead  furrows. 

2.  The  squirrel  makes  its  home  in  trees,  usually  in  parts  un- 
frequented by  man. 

3.  As  cold  water  to  a  thirsty  soul,  so  is  good  news  from  a  far 
country. 

4.  The  pen  is  mightier  than  the  sword. 

5.  I  was  more  interested  in  the  work  than  anyone  about  me. 

6.  Tracing  with  the  pointer,  the  river  branches  in  three  places 
and  runs  in  southwesterly  direction  to  the  Gulf. 

7.  It  is  too  bad. 

8.  Looking  around,  the  horse  took  advantage  of  the  slackened 
rein  to  throw  him  suddenly  from  the  saddle. 

9.  He  carved  the  meat  instead  of  his  father. 

10.  As  a  man  he  was  little,  as  a  soldier  and  a  general  great. 

38.  Verb-forms. — Agreement  of  verbs  with  their  sub- 
jects needs  no  general  discussion  here.  But  three  things  in 
particular  may  be  noted. 

1.  Do  not  allow  words  intervening  between  subject  and 
verb  to  confuse  you.     Compare  the  sentence  above: 

Agreement  of  verbs  with  their  subjects  needs,  etc. 

2.  Qualifying  phrases  do  not  affect  the  number  of  the 
subject.    The  following  are  correct: 

A  young  fellow  with  a  child  clinging  to  each  hand  was  passing 
at  the  moment. 


58  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

The  way  of  a  maid  with  a  man,  like  the  way  of  a  bird  in  the 
air  and  of  a  serpent  upon  the  rocks,  passes  understanding. 

3.  A  compound  subject  takes  the  plural  verb  ordinarily, 
but  may  take  the  singular  if  the  parts  of  the  subject  make 
a  definite  unit.  The  verbs  in  the  following  sentences  are 
correct: 

Bread  and  milk  is  her  diet;  and  health,  strength  and  beauty 
are  the  result  of  it. 

Exercise. 

Correct  such  of  the  following  sentences  as  require  cor- 
rection: 

1.  The  very  fact  that  there  are  older  people  alter  many  of  the 
conditions. 

2.  Other  important  things  I  wish  to  acquire  before  I  leave 
college  is  a  fairly  good  knowledge  of  mathematics,  and  an  in- 
terest in  and  liking  for  books. 

3.  The  number  of  volumes  in  a  library  do  not  necessarily  make 
a  good  library. 

4.  The  bottom  of  these  lead  chambers  in  which  the  acid  was 
first  prepared  were  covered  with  water. 

5.  A  very  few  academies  require  seventeen  or  eighteen  hours 
of  work,  but  none,  with  the  exception  of  this  school,  require  as 
many  as  twenty-one. 

6.  The  family  was  like  my  own  in  the  way  they  made  me  one 
of  them. 

7.  The  girl  as  well  as  her  brother  is  completely  independent  of 
home  support. 

8.  It  was  one  of  those  books  which  are  invariably  seen  lying 
on  parlor  tables,  which  are  utilized  to  give  the  atmosphere  of 
culture,  and  are  never  read. 

39.  Tenses. — Future — Shall  and  Will.  Discussions  of 
the  use  of  shall  and  will  are  numerous  as  the  sands  of  the 
seashore,  and  hardly  as  valuable.    The  distinction  between 


THE  SENTENCE  59 

the  two  is  slowly  breaking  down,  but  is  by  no  means  broken 
down  as  yet.  Indeed  by  many  people  they  are  regarded 
as  passwords  of  the  educated,  the  shibboleth  of  culture. 

A  good  rule  is:  In  both  direct  and  indirect  speech,  use 
shall  and  should  in  the  first  person,  will  and  would 
in  the  others.  Vary  from  this  rule  only  to  express  deter- 
mination or  command. 

I  shall  go,  I  should  go;  he  would  go,  they  will  go,  you 
will  go.  These  are  the  ordinary  forms,  the  forms  express- 
ing simple  futurity,  the  forms  which  nine  times  out  of  ten 
we  wish  to  use.  Fix  them  in  your  mind,  and  use  them  in- 
variably unless  you  have  a  good  reason  (the  desire  to  ex- 
press determination  or  command)  not  to  use  them.  If 
you  once  establish  these  forms  as  standard  for  ordinary 
usage,  the  difficulty  in  most  cases  is  met. 

In  questions,  use  the  form  proper  to  the  answer. 

You  ask  a  friend,  "Will  you  go  the  theatre  with  me?" 
because  you  expect  his  answer,  involving  determination 
on  his  part,  to  be  "I  will"  or  "I  will  not."  You  say  to 
your  instructor  "  Shall  we  have  a  test  tomorrow  ?  "  because 
his  answer,  if  it  were  given  in  a  direct  form,  would  involve 
determination  on  his  part.  It  would  be  "You  shall,"  or 
"You  shall  not."  On  the  other  hand,  you  ask,  "Will  it 
be  a  hard  one?"  because  his  proper  answer  is  "It  will," 
or  "It  will  not." 

Exercise. 

Insert  the  proper  words  in  the  blank  spaces  in  the  follow- 
ing sentences: 

1.  If  I see  a  student  cheat  in  an  examination, I 

be  justified  in  reporting  the  fact? 

2.  you  make  the  call  today  or  tomorrow? 

3.  He  asked  the  policeman  on  the  corner  if  he reach 

the  place  by  taking  a  Grand  Crossing  car. 


60  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

4.  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  I not  repeat  what 

you  say. 

5.  "On  the  contrary,"  he  exclaimed,  "she know  every- 
thing that  I  can  tell." 

6.  you  be  willing  to  accept  the  money  if  I  considered 

it  simply  as  a  loan? 

7.  I  — not  speak  so  loud  if  I  were  you. 

8.  The  rule  is  written  not  only  in  all  noble  histories,  but  in 
every  man's  heart,  if  he take  care  to  read. 

9.  We  had  thought  that  we go  east  this  summer,  if 

you be  willing  to  run  the  house  for  us. 

10.  I  have  decided  that  I go  in  spite  of  what  you  say. 

11.  Make  me  king's  pantler;    make  me  abbot  of  St.  Denis; 

make  me  bailly  of  the  Patatrac;   and  then  I be  changed 

indeed. 

12.  You excuse  my  abruptness,  but  I  do  not  believe 

that  I  have  met  you  before. 

13.  Very  well;  you do  as  you  wish,  and  we do 

as  we  think  best. 

14.  I like  it  if  they consider  the  matter  closed 

once  and  for  all. 

15.  If  you listen  to  what  I  say,  you learn  some- 
thing important  that  I not  trouble  myself  to  repeat  again. 

Present — The  present,  in  English,  is  used  in  three  ways : 
The  actual  present — the  moment  of  speaking.  I  low 
you.  You  hate  me.  I  wish  I  could.  He  knows  it.  But 
observe  that  except  in  a  few  instances  like  these  just  men- 
tioned, the  actual  present  is  formed  only  by  prefixing  to 
the  participle  am,  is,  or  are.  I  am  running.  He  is  breath- 
ing hard.    They  are  doing  well. 

What  is  called  by  grammarians  the  present  tense  of  the 
verb  usually  signifies  not  the  present  of  the  moment  of 
speech,  but  a  continuous  or  general  present.  I  stand  on 
my  record.  He  talks  too  much.  You  recite  well.  Men 
pass  away,  but  still  their  works  remain.  Compare  these 
with  actual  present — I  am  standing  on  my  record;  he 
is  talking  too  much;   you  are  reciting  well,  etc. 


THE  SENTENCE  61 

What  is  called  the  historical  present  is  also  used.  This, 
however,  is  merely  a  trick  of  style,  intended  to  give  vivid- 
ness to  narration.  It  consists  in  speaking  of  past  events 
as  if  they  were  taking  place  at  the  moment. 

Lincoln  at  Gettysburg !  There  he  stands,  this  gaunt,  awkward 
man;  his  eyes,  sad  and  tender,  look  not  upon  the  thousands 
about  him,  but  into  the  past  and  the  future;  his  voice  is  too  low 
to  be  heard  by  more  than  the  nearest  of  his  audience,  but  the 
words  he  is  speaking  shall  ring  forever  in  the  heart  of  the 
nation. 

The  device  has  its  value:  Carlyle,  for  example,  uses  it 
amazingly  well;  but  the  ordinary  writer  will  find  that  it 
soon  grows  stale.  It  is  exclamatory  in  its  effect,  and  to  be 
exclamatory  is  to  be  tiresome. 

The  Past. — In  most  cases  the  simple  past  tense  is  used 
to  fix  a  definite  moment.  He  fired,  the  girl  laughed,  the 
long  day  ended.  With  some  few  verbs,  however,  the  sim- 
ple past  is  used  not  only  to  fix  such  a  definite  moment,  but 
also  in  reference  to  the  past  in  general  (/  loved,  I  hated, 
the  plant  grew  steadily,  he  thought  her  beautiful,  he  be- 
lieved in  God,  etc.).  The  imperfect,  perfect  and  pluper- 
fect are  always  used  in  reference  either  to  the  past  in  gen- 
eral {the  girl  was  always  laughing),  or  to  events  related  to 
some  previously  fixed  moment  (It  is  night;  the  long  day 
has  ended). 

To  use  past  tenses  correctly,  therefore,  you  must  know 
whether  you  are  dealing  with  the  past  in  general,  or  with  a 
fixed  moment  in  the  past.  To  illustrate:  She  has  laughed 
at  me  fixes  no  particular  occasion,  but  implies  the  past  gen- 
erally. She  was  laughing  at  me  relates  her  action  to  some 
moment  which  has  been  otherwise  fixed.  She  laughed  at 
me  fixes  a  particular  occasion. 

Such  a  definite  moment  in  the  past  once  having  been 
fixed,  the  general  tenses  take  care  of  whatever  events  group 


62  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

themselves  about  that  moment — before,  during,  and  after 
that  moment.    For  instance: 

He  said  that  he  had  been  investigating,  and  he  thought  that 
the  time  had  come  for  action. 

He  said  fixes  some  particular  moment.  He  had  been 
investigating  is  relative  to  that  moment — before  that  mo- 
ment. He  thought  is  again  simple  past  and  fixes  a  par- 
ticular moment.  The  time  had  come  is  relative — had  come 
at  that  moment. 

The  proper  use  of  the  tenses  in  English  is  to  some  extent 
a  matter  of  idiom.  But  careful  thinking  will  generally 
bring  the  writer  safely  through.  Take  for  instance  a  com- 
mon mistake;  the  use  of  a  past  infinitive  with  a  past  verb: 

I  knew  better  than  to  have  tried  it. 

Nobody  would  say  "I  know  better  than  to  have  tried 
it."  But  know  fixes  a  definite  moment  (the  present),  just 
as  knew  fixes  a  definite  moment  (in  the  past).  At  this 
definite  moment  our  information  told  us  not  to  try,  it  did 
not  tell  us  not  to  have  tried.  Speaking  of  ourselves  at  that 
moment,  therefore,  we  must  say  "I  knew  enough  not  to 
try  it." 

It  is  in  such  cases  as  this  that  difficulties  occur,  where  one 
tense  must  be  used  not  by  itself  but  in  relation  to  another. 

He  says  that  he  is  enjoying  himself.  The  continuous 
present  follows  the  simple  present.  He  said  that  he  was 
enjoying  himself.  The  imperfect  follows  the  past.  He 
has  said  that  he  is  enjoying  himself.  What  does  this  mean, 
and  how  does  it  differ  from  "he  has  said  that  he  was  en- 
joying himself?"  No  rule  can  be  laid  down;  you  must 
know  what  each  tense  signifies,  and  think  out  its  relation, 
in  each  particular  case,  to  any  other  tense  you  have  used. 


THE  SENTENCE  63 


Exercise. 

Discuss  the  exact  meaning  of  the  following  sentences. 
The  verbs  are  correctly  used. 

1.  Composition  is  valuable  training. 

2.  He  said  that  composition  is  valuable  training. 

3.  He  said  that  composition  was  valuable  training. 

4.  To  be  a  poet  is  to  be  unhappy. 

5.  He  said  that  to  be  a  poet  is  to  be  unhappy. 

6.  He  said  that  to  be  a  poet  is  to  have  been  unhappy. 

7.  He  denied  that  he  had  been  trying  any  such  scheme. 

8.  He  denied  that  he  was  trying  any  such  scheme. 

9.  If  I  had  known  the  way,  I  should  have  gone. 

10.  If  I  knew  the  way,  I  should  go. 

11.  I  knew  that  I  was  mistaken. 

12.  I  know  now  that  I  am  mistaken;  I  supposed  then  that 
I  was  mistaken;  but,  God  help  me,  I  cannot  and  could  not  do 
otherwise. 

13.  Being  dead  he  yet  speaks. 

14.  Being  dead  he  yet  spake. 

15.  Having  been  informed  of  the  fellow's  habits,  we  paid  no 
attention  to  him. 

16.  Having  been  informed  of  the  fellow's  habits,  we  pay  no 
attention  to  him. 

17.  Having  been  informed  of  the  fellow's  habits,  we  are  paying 
no  attention  to  him. 

Comment  on  the  various  tense-forms  in  the  following 
sentences.     Are  airy  incorrectly  used? 

1.  He  would  have  wished  I   .    f  }  you  before  he  died. 

[  to  have  seen  J  J 

(is  doing 
was  doing  >  wrong. 

has  been  doing  J 

f  fail  ] 

3.  Having  followed  his  directions  explicitly,  I  still  I  failed  > 

[  have  failed  J 
to  gain  the  correct  results. 


64  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

4.  I  have  the  key;  so  you  need  not  <  ,ry         .   ,  V to  open 
the  door. 

5.  He  had  been  sentenced  twice  already  before  he  <     as  > 

I  was  J 

caught  for  the  third  time. 

6.  When  he  and  I  dwelt  there  together,  the  rooms  j  had  been  \ 
a  temple  of  misogyny. 

7.  I  am  coming  to  realize  that  {  *  ^f^  }  friend- 

ship  would  have  been  impossible. 

f  shall  have  attained. 

8.  Death  is  a  dignity  to  which  all  of  us  <  have  attained. 

[  may  attain. 

9.  The  place  acquired  a  sudden  interest  from  the  fact  that 

h  {  ZZ  being  }  occuPied  ^  the  man  t0  whom  she  {  waJ  ^  } 
previously  introduced. 

f  were  having  1 

10.  They  have  said  that  they  I  are  having     >  a  delightful  time 

[  had,  have      j 
cruising  on  the  Mediterranean. 

11.  He  had  thought  {  J  gj  caught }  the  train  in  plenty  of 
time  by  leaving  the  house  at  eleven  o'clock. 

12.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  you  are  laughing  now,  you  will 
yet  |  ,  >  cause  to  repent  it. 

fare  ] 

13.  She  had  learned,  in  her  long  vigils,  that  there  <  were  > 

[  have  been  J 
certain  things  not  good  to  think  upon,  certain  midnight  images 
j  that  must  at  any  cost  be  exorcized. 

14.  Anxious  as  he  was  to  avoid  personal  notice,  he  <  ,  ,       \  a 

pleasure  so  exquisite  in  the  printed  mention  of  his  name  that  it 
seemed  a  compensation  for  his  shrinking  from  publicity. 


i  c    t*  •  j  f  to  have  seen  \  XT     , 

15.  It  is  good  <  .  >  Naple 

^  to  see  j 


THE  SENTENCE  65 

40.  The  Participle  and  the  Infinitive. — Participial 
constructions  in  English  are  frequent  and  of  great  service. 
The  student  should  remember: 

1.  That  the  present  participle,  in  English  as  in  Latin, 
always  takes  the  same  subject  as  the  main  verb,  and  re- 
fers to  the  same  time  as  the  main  verb. 

Going  to  a  restaurant,  supper  was  served.  This  is  ob- 
viously wrong,  because  the  participle  must  be  construed 
with  supper,  the  subject  of  the  main  verb;  and  such  a 
construction  makes  nonsense. 

Going  to  a  restaurant,  we  had  supper.  This  too  is  wrong, 
because  the  time  referred  to  by  the  participle  differs  from 
the  time  referred  to  by  the  main  verb;  unless,  indeed,  the 
writer  means  that  they  ate  on  their  way  to  the  restaurant. 

Correct  uses  of  the  present  participle  are: 

Looking  up,  we  could  see  the  blue  sky. 

Going  home  we  almost  lost  our  way. 

Turning,  he  stared  hard  at  me. 

She  looked  away  blushing. 

2.  That  both  the  participle  and  the  infinitive  have  often 
the  force  of  a  noun,  and  in  such  a  case  each  bears  exactly 
the  same  relation  as  a  noun  to  the  other  parts  of  the  sen- 
tence.    Correct  uses: 

Going  to  the  theatre  was  a  favorite  diversion  of  mine. 
Traveling  hither  and  thither  wasted  my  time. 
His  firing  the  shot  was  accidental. 
John's  being  willing  was  a  surprise  to  me. 
To  be  or  not  to  be  is  the  question. 

To  fly  was  almost  impossible,  and  he  thought  it  dishon- 
orable into  the  bargain. 

41.  The  Organization  of  the  Sentence. — The  seek 
ond  essential  of  a  good  sentence  is  sound  organization.  To 
know  and  observe  the  usages  of  grammar  is  essential,  but 
if  you  would  write  effectively,  or  even  clearly,  is  not  enough. 


66  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

All  except  the  very  simplest  sentence-forms  demand  care- 
ful planning.  At  first  this  organization  must  be  largely 
accomplished  by  revision;  gradually  it  becomes  almost  in- 
stinctive. 

One  kind  of  sentence,  simple,  complex,  or  compound,  is 
theoretically  as  good  as  another.  The  kind  you  should 
employ  in  any  given  case  depends  on  two  things :  the  idea 
you  have  to  express,  and  the  necessity  of  avoiding  mo- 
notony. Your  reader  will  demand  that  every  sentence  be 
clear,  and  that  in  every  sentence  you  make  it  easy  for  him 
to  understand  what  things  you  consider  most  important. 
In  other  words,  clearness  and  proper  emphasis  are  the  mat- 
ters to  be  sought  in  sentence-organization. 

42.  Clearness  in  the  Sentence. — Consider  the  follow- 
ing sentence.  It  is  grammatically  correct,  and  properly 
punctuated,  but  it  is  far  from  clear. 

It  is  my  purpose  to  discuss  Hawthorne's  use  of  the  super- 
natural in  his  stories,  of  which  almost  all  deal  with  supernatural 
forces. 

Here  are  two  ideas  (1)  Hawthorne's  constant  use  of  the 
supernatural  element,  (2)  the  writer's  purpose  to  discuss 
this  use.  Each  of  these  ideas  may  be  put  in  a  separate 
sentence,  as  follows: 

Of  Hawthorne's  stories  almost  all  deal  with  the  supernatural 
forces.  This  constant  use  of  the  supernatural  I  purpose  to 
discuss. 

Or  the  one  idea  may  be  made  wholly  subordinate  to  the 
other,  and  the  two  may  be  properly  included  in  one  sen- 
tence, as  follows: 

It  is  my  purpose  to  discuss  the  almost  constant  use  of  the 
supernatural  in  the  stories  of  Hawthorne. 


THE  SENTENCE  67 

Take  another  instance. 

Hawthorne  does  not  take  pleasure  in  portraying  sin  and  merely 
brings  it  in  to  teach  the  great  moral  lessons  he  has  in  mind. 

The  ideas  here  belong  together;  but  the  sentence  fails  to 
bring  out  properly  this  logical  relation.  The  writer  means 
to  say 

Hawthorne  does  not  take  pleasure  in  portraying  sin,  but  merely 
brings  it  in  to  teach  the  great  moral  lessons  he  has  in  mind. 

Often  in  the  sentence  as  in  the  paragraph  and  the  whole 
composition,  as  a  result  of  careless  thinking  material  gets 
in  which  has  no  business  there.  Things  associated  in  the 
writer's  mind  come  to  the  surface  together,  and  needing 
one  for  his  purpose  he  foolishly  uses  both. 

I  enjoyed  myself  very  much  at  San  Diego,  which  has  a  delight- 
ful climate  at  that  time  of  the  year,  although  in  the  summer  of 
course  it  is  very  hot. 

Here  the  idea  of  the  final  clause  clung  in  the  writer's 
mind  to  the  other  idea  of  San  Diego's  climate,  and  he  put 
it  into  his  sentence,  with  the  result  of  obscuring  his  real 
point. 

Or  it  may  happen  that  the  writer  splits  in  two  an  idea 
that  should  be  expressed  in  one  sentence. 

There  are  seven  million  people  who  buy  from  us  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  million  dollars'  worth  of  goods  every  year.  In 
return  they  sell  us  a  hundred  million  dollars'  worth. 

This  is  bad  arrangement,  because  the  ideas  of  buying  and 
selling  belong  naturally  together,  form  one  idea  in  fact. 
They  should  therefore  be  combined  in  one  sentence.  The 
number  of  the  people  may  or  may  not  find  a  place  in  the 
sentence,  just  as  the  writer  chooses.    He  may  write  either: 


68  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Here  are  seven  million  people.  They  buy  from  us  $225,000,000 
worth  of  goods  every  year,  and  in  return  sell  us  $100,000,000 
worth. 

Or: 

Here  are  seven  million  people  who  buy  from  us  $225,000,000 
worth  of  goods  every  year,  and  in  turn  sell  us  $100,000,000  worth. 

It  is  obvious  that  (1)  a  sentence  usually  contains  more 
than  one  idea;  (2)  clearness  demands  that  the  relation  of 
the  different  ideas  to  one  another  be  made  plain.  How  can 
this  demand  of  clearness  be  fulfilled? 

43.  How  to  Gain  Clearness. — The  fundamental  neces- 
sity is  that  the  writer  should  know  just  what,  in  each  sen- 
tence, he  is  driving  at.  If  he  is  confused,  his  readers  of 
course  wTill  be.  But  certain  points  which  should  be  of  as- 
sistance may  be  noted. 

1.  Do  not,  except  for  good  reason,  shift  the  subject  of  a 
sentence.    Note  the  following  passage: 

I  took  botany  in  my  freshman  year  in  high  school,  and  it  has 
been  my  favorite  study  ever  since.  It  takes  one  outdoors,  and  you 
get  to  know  the  flowers.  It  is  a  practical  study,  for  you  find  use 
for  it  every  day.  I  do  not  know  much  botany  even  now,  but  a 
walk  nevertheless  is  a  great  pleasure.  For  I  always  find  new 
things,  and  it  was  the  study  of  botany  which  taught  me  how  to 
do  this. 

In  every  sentence  the  writer  shifts  the  subject.  The  re- 
sult is  intolerably  clumsy.    Rewritten: 

I  began  botany  in  my  freshman  year  in  high  school  and  have 
liked  it  ever  since.  It,  takes  one  outdoors,  and  teaches  one  to 
know  the  flowers.  It  is  a  practical  study,  showing  its  usefulness 
every  day.  I  do  not  know  much  botany  even  now,  but  I  am 
always  finding  out  new  things  and  getting  pleasure  from  my 
walks,  and  I  owe  all  this  to  my  study  of  botany. 


THE  SENTENCE  69 

Observe  that  in  each  of  the  first  three  sentences  the  sub- 
jects have  been  reduced  from  two  to  one.  The  fourth  and 
fifth  sentences  have  been  combined  into  one,  which  is  com- 
pound, but  which  retains  the  same  subject  throughout. 

The  same  rule  holds  good  in  clauses — keep  the  same  sub* 
ject,  if  possible,  throughout. 

(a)  The  mail  is  then  divided  into  four  classes,  which  are  handled 
by  different  clerks  and  the  stamps  placed  upon  them. 

(b)  The  mail  is  then  divided  into  four  classes,  which  are  handled 
and  stamped  by  different  clerks. 

2.  In  general,  phrase  like  ideas  alike.  This,  which  is 
often  called  "parallel  construction/'  is  a  matter  of  much 
importance  to  clearness. 

(a)  What  follows  is  scarcely  applicable  to  recent  immigrants, 
and  of  course  applies  even  less  to  the  Southern  negroes. 

(b)  What  follows  is  scarcely  applicable  to  recent  immigrants, 
and  of  course  even  less  applicable  to  the  Southern  negroes. 

(a)  When  1  went  back  home,  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  small 
the  place  was,  and  that  it  seemed  to  have  grown  ugly. 

(b)  When  I  went  back  home,  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  small 
the  place  was,  and  how  ugly  it  seemed  to  have  grown. 

3.  Use  as  few  verbs  as  possible,  and  make  those  verbs, 
if  possible,  active.  In  other  words,  follow  the  suggestion 
on  page  52  to  "reduce  predication." 

(a)  We  made  our  way  through  woods  which  were  very  thick. 

(b)  We  made  our  way  through  very  thick  woods. 

(a)  We  waited  for  the  mystery  to  be  solved. 

(b)  We  waited  for  the  solution  of  the  mystery. 

(a)  I  was  carried  on  by  the  current,  which  was  very  swift. 

(b)  The  swift  current  carried  me  on. 

(a)  I  went  down  town  and  saw  the  procession,  which  the 
Knights  of  Commerce  had  organized  elaborately  and  which  was 
very  long. 

(b)  I  went  down  town  and  saw  the  very  long  and  elaborate 
procession  which  the  Knights  of  Commerce  had  oraganized. 


70  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 


Exercise. 

Determine  what  are  the  main  ideas  of  the  following  sen- 
tences, and  recast  the  sentences  to  make  these  ideas  in  each 
case  clear  and  definite.  Make  any  change  of  form  or  word- 
ing you  please. 

1.  There  is  mystery  and  evil  in  this  tale  and  Ethan  Brand  is 
the  center  of  it  all. 

2.  His  heart  had  become  stone  because  of  the  exclusion  of 
good  from  it  and  the  stone  is  the  symbol  of  one  who  turns  his 
back  on  God. 

3.  The  last  named  story  seems  to  prove  the  presence  of  God 
in  the  universe  and  it  is  pleasant  to  feel  that  the  author  has  at 
last  been  able  to  come  to  such  a  conclusion. 

4.  At  Strassburg,  Goethe's  associates  were  chiefly  students  of 
medicine,  to  which  science  he  devoted  a  great  deal  of  his  time, 
although  he  spent  much  of  each  day  also  in  the  ordinary  social 
diversions  of  the  period. 

5.  Everybody  was  very  good  to  us  and  we  stayed  a  day  longer 
than  we  had  intended. 

6.  I  do  not  recall  many  interesting  experiences,  except  being 
chased  by  a  bull  once,  and  perhaps  I  might  write  about  that. 

7.  At  six  o'clock  the  car  came  and  took  us  round  the  boule- 
vards for  an  hour,  after  which  we  had  supper. 

8.  The  window  was  open  and  through  it  he  could  see  the  family 
at  supper,  which  was  the  principal  meal  of  the  day  in  Wheaton 
as  it  is  in  most  small  western  towns. 

9.  It  was  so  hot  that  we  could  not  do  any  work  and  reading 
was  forbidden  me  and  as  swimming  was  about  all  I  could  do  I 
spent  three  hours  a  day  in  the  water. 

10.  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis  have  outgrown  the  envy  of  each 
other  which  in  their  younger  days  they  used  to  feel,  as  children 
often  do  about  the  most  trivial  matters,  even  for  instance  who 
shall  have  "first  help"  at  breakfast. 

11.  The  land  in  the  older  states  became  devoted  to  corn  and 
cattle.  Hogs  were  also  extensively  raised,  but  wheat  and  other 
cereals  were  left  to  newer  lands. 

12.  I  do  not  advocate  this  treaty  in  view  of  its  benefit  to  the 
United  States  alone.    I  am  sure  it  will  be  beneficial  to  Canada 


THE  SENTENCE  71 

also,  and  if  I  did  not  think  so  my  enthusiasm  for  the  treaty  would 
be  much  abated. 

13.  This  matter  which  has  given  cause  for  much  writing  is  the 
subject  of  ventilation  in  the  recitation  rooms. 

14.  As  soon  as  stabbed  I  fell  in  my  chair  and  the  way  I  fell 
back  startled  some  in  the  room. 

15.  The  tired  farmer's  wife,  wearied  with  other  people's  shop- 
ping, is  too  tired  to  do  any  herself,  and  folding  up  her  small 
table,  takes  her  place  in  the  covered  wagon,  and  seated  beside 
her  husband  begins  her  long  ride  home. 

16.  In  walked  three  rough-looking  young  men,  and  each  wore 
a  slouch  hat. 

17.  This  is  brought  about  by  sand  and  dust  being  blown 
against  the  surface  of  a  rock  having  the  effect  of  sand  blast,  and 
often  wearing  away  very  hard  rock. 

18.  However,  he  managed  to  stir  up  quite  a  little  enthusiasm, 
and  reformed  matters  quite  a  little,  but  this  movement  unfor- 
tunately did  not  last  very  long,  for  as  soon  as  he  disappeared, 
old  habits  were  resumed. 

19.  Death,  which  had  allowed  her  but  a  few  short  hours  of 
wedded  bliss,  was  caused  by  heart-disease. 

20.  How  can  many  students  fail  to  be  aroused  to  go  and  cheer 

for after  reading  frequently  articles  in  the  daily  paper 

which  appeal  to  their  loyalty? 

21.  There  are  several  people  who  are  having  experience  in 
this  line  of  work  now  which  no  doubt  will  aid  materially  in  their 
life's  work,  for  the  capable  editors  that  the  " Daily"  has  had  and 
has  made  have  a  successful  future  before  them  undoubtedly. 

22.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  lived  a  rural  life  for  any  length 
of  time,  and  it  struck  me  as  pleasant  at  first,  but  after  one  week 
I  began  to  long  for  the  city  again. 

23.  One  hot  day  my  aunt  sent  my  cousin,  a  lad  of  fourteen,  to 
her  sister's  on  an  errand,  who  lived  in  the  valley. 

24.  The  horse  slowed  up  with  short  jerky  steps  and  as  a  result 
I,  pulling  my  brother  with  me,  who  held  on  to  my  skirt,  fell  into 
the  tall  grass  and  sand  burrs  below,  along  the  roadside. 

25.  When  we  were  well  started  on  our  trip,  our  train  made  a 
stop  at  a  certain  station,  where  my  uncle  asked  me  to  be  quiet 
and  wait,  and  he  would  buy  me  some  bananas  right  there  in  the 
depot,  and  would  be  back  in  a  minute. 

26.  For  weeks  the  farmer  often  prays  for  rain,  only  too  fre- 
quently without  response,  for  he  must  see  his  whole  wheat  and 


72  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

com,  on  which  he  has  spent  so  much  work  in  the  spring  and  early 
summer,  ruined,  while  he  is  helpless  to  prevent  it,  knowing  how 
great  a  loss  it  means  to  him  financially. 

27.  After  a  layer  about  eight  inches  deep  of  cinders  is  put 
down,  a  layer  of  sand  and  crushed  stone  mixed,  about  three  or 
four  inches  in  thickness,  is  laid  out,  according  to  the  law  re- 
quirements. 

Rewrite  the  following  sentences,  avoiding  unnecessary 
shifts  of  construction. 

1.  There  are  certain  traits  of  character  which  we  acquire  by 
experience,  by  living  as  we  do  among  the  people  and  surround- 
ings that  we  are. 

2.  Assistance  is  given  in  four  ways,  namely:  by  remission  of 
tuition,  by  the  Students'  Fund  Society,  by  the  granting  of  a 
service  scholarship,  and  by  assisting  students  in  getting  outside 
employment. 

3.  There  are  pumpkin  and  apple  pies  with  thin  rich  crust  and 
thick  rich  pumpkin,  or  very  full  of  apples,  according  to  the  kind 
of  pie. 

4.  Her  newly-made  husband  was  devotion  itself;  she  wore  the 
gayest  dress  in  the  room;  the  festivity  was  really  in  her  honor; 
she  was  the  observed  of  observers;  her  cheeks  were  flushed  and 
her  eyes  were  bright. 

5.  I  have  taken  all  the  trips  with  the  class  and  have  found  them 
beneficial  in  very  few  ways,  and,  also,  they  have  prevented  my 
doing  things  equally  important. 

6.  I  went  to  the  door  and  saw  a  friend  waiting  for  me  in  his 
machine,  and  upon  going  out  to  see  him,  he  begged  me  to  ride 
down  town  with  him  on  an  errand. 

7.  The  dredge  company  had  agreed  to  dredge  a  channel 
seventy-five  feet  wide  and  twenty-three  feet  deep  around  the 
four  docks  for  twenty  dollars  per  hour,  and  that  the  dredge  should 
work  twelve  hours  a  day. 

8.  The  point  of  conflict  was  not  that  I  did  not  realize  a  need 
of  further  preparation  but  how  best  to  secure  it. 

9.  Sadie  was  taken  in  as  a  boarder  and  Fleeceman  taught  her 
the  trade  of  a  finisher. 

10.  The  lesson  assigned  must  be  prepared  by  everyone,  or 
he  must  be  excused  from  reciting  before  class. 


THE  SENTENCE  73 

11.  The  abbot  was  supposed  to  rule  and  heal  men;  he  must 
guide  and  support  his  followers;  accustom  himself  to  all  disposi- 
tions; be  a  servant  in  respect  to  his  own  commands;  and,  above 
all,  all  men  must  be  treated  equally. 

12.  He  went  to  see  what  he  could  do  for  the  man  and  carry- 
ing a  few  common  remedies  with  him. 

13.  The  concentrated  acid  is  placed  in  platinum  or  glass  vessels 
and  heated,  and  drives  off  the  remaining  portion  of  water. 

14.  Every  year  these  libraries  are  added  to  by  appropriations 
and  also,  from  time  to  time,  gifts  are  made  which  help  the  good 
cause  along. 

15.  During  King  Frederick's  reign,  the  territory  of  Prussia 
had  not  been  increased  to  a  great  extent,  nor  had  she  gained  the 
political  power  due  her. 


44.  Emphasis. — We  have  seen  that  a  sentence  is  usually 
the  expression  of  various  ideas  in  combination.  A  sentence 
is  clear  if  the  relation  of  these  various  ideas  to  one  another 
is  plain.  A  sentence  is  emphatic  if  the  reader  recognizes 
instantly  and  unmistakably  the  main  idea. 

Emphasis  in  the  sentence  is  the  product  of  three  factors — 
form,  position,  and  proportion. 

(1)  Form.  Broadly  speaking,  the  reader  feels  that  what- 
ever is  put  into  an  independent  clause  is  important.  For 
example,  in  the  sentence,  "  I  went  down  town  and  bought  a 
hat,"  the  emphasis  is  evenly  distributed  between  the  two 
acts.  Change  it  to  "Having  gone  down  town,  I  bought  a 
hat,"  and  you  shift  the  emphasis  to  the  purchase;  change 
it  to  "I  went  down  town  to  buy  a  hat,"  and  you  shift  the 
emphasis  to  the  journey.  As  a  rule,  therefore,  put  what 
you  wish  to  emphasize  into  an  independent  clause. 

(2)  Position.  What  catches  the  reader's  eye,  in  every 
sentence,  is  the  beginning  and  end — particularly  the  end. 
That  which  you  wish  to  emphasize,  therefore,  you  should 
place  in  one  of  these  conspicuous  positions.  Note  the  dif- 
ference in  the  emphasis  of  the  following: 


74  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

(a)  I  hated  spiders,  snakes,  girls,  and  rice-pudding,  but  I  hated 
school  most  of  all. 

(b)  Spiders,  snakes,  girls,  and  rice-pudding  I  hated,  but  most 
of  all  I  hated  school. 

(a)  In  every  sentence  what  catches  the  reader's  eye  is  the 
beginning  and  the  end,  inevitably. 

(b)  What  catches  the  reader's  eye  in  every  sentence  is  inevi- 
tably the  beginning  and  the  end. 

(a)  This  is  the  substance  of  the  whole  matter,  in  short. 

(b)  This  is,  in  short,  the  substance  of  the  whole  matter. 

(a)  He  is  weak  on  his  backhand  usually. 

(b)  He  is  usually  weak  on  his  backhand. 

(a)  So  to  speak,  there  are  three  branches  from  the  main  trunk 
of  the  river. 

(b)  There  are  three  branches,  so  to  speak,  from  the  main 
trunk  of  the  river. 

Sometimes  the  writer  desires  to  throw  this  emphasis  on 
words  repeated  for  coherence.  The  rule  still  holds:  place 
them  at  the  beginning  or  the  end  of  the  sentence. 

He  was  said  to  be  a  man  of  fearful  temper.  This  temper, 
however,  I  had  never  seen.  Or,  I,  however,  had  never  seen  this 
temper. 

The  practice  of  "burying"  in  the  middle  of  the  sentence 
such  connectives  as  however,  moreover,  consequently,  be- 
sides, etc.,  may  be  said  to  be  among  good  writers  invariable. 

He  was,  however,  no  friend  of  mine. 

I  had  seen  her  once  before  with  the  sunshine  in  her  hair;  I 
knew  her,  therefore,  at  once. 

In  connection  with  the  relation  of  position  to  emphasis 
the  so-called  "normal  order"  of  the  English  sentence  may 
be  pointed  out,  and  the  effect  of  changing  it.  This  normal 
order  is : 

1.  The  modifiers  of  the  subject  and  the  subject. 

2.  The  verb  and  the  modifiers  of  the  verb. 


THE  SENTENCE  75 

3.  The  modifiers  of  the  object  and  the  object. 
The  following  is  a  typically  normal  sentence: 

The  tall  poplars  softly  whispered  their  old  tales. 

Now  any  change  in  the  normal  order  is  likely  to  attract 
the  reader's  attention,  for  exactly  the  same  reason  that  a 
boy  would  attract  attention  who  wore  his  waistcoat  outside 
his  coat.    Such  sentences  as  these  demand  notice: 

To  Peace,  however,  in  this  vortex  of  existence,  can  the  Sod 
of  Time  not  pretend. 

Certainly  a  most  involved,  self-secluded,  altogether  enigmatic 
nature,  this  of  Teufelsdrockh. 

Hast  thou  in  any  way  a  contention  with  thy  brother,  I  advise 
thee,  think  well  what  the  meaning  thereof  is. 

If  a  man  die,  shall  he  live  again  ?  all  the  days  of  my  appointed 
time  will  I  wait,  till  my  change  come. 

Beautiful  it  was  to  sit  there,  as  in  my  skyey  tent,  musing  and 
meditating. 

The  trouble  with  such  violent  reversals  of  the  normal 
order,  however,  is  that  they  not  only  attract  but  tire  the 
reader's  attention.  They  are  so  clamorous  they  soon  be- 
come wearisome,  and  lose  their  force.  Change  the  normal 
order,  if  you  please,  to  secure  emphasis,  now  and  then;  but 
do  not  continually  change  it. 

(3)  Proportion.  Finally,  in  the  sentence  as  in  the  whole 
composition  and  the  paragraph,  the  amount  of  space  given 
to  the  development  of  an  idea  tends  to  determine  its  em- 
phasis. Even  a  parenthesis,  if  it  is  long,  will  attract  the 
reader's  attention.  Give  in  greatest  detail,  therefore,  what 
is  of  greatest  importance. 

Obviously,  these  three  factors  of  emphasis  may  be  used 
in  combination,  or  they  may  work  against  one  another. 
Perhaps  the  most  effective  is  position.;  but  skill  demands  the 
proper  employment  of  all  three. 


76  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Exercise. 

In  the  following  sentences,  comment  on  the  emphasis, 
and  change  the  form  of  any  which  seem  to  you  ineffective. 

1.  Somewhere,  I  knew  not  where — somehow,  I  knew  not  how 
— by  some  beings,  I  knew  not  whom — a  battle,  a  strife,  an  agony, 
was  conducting. 

2.  He  cried  "Heavens !"  throwing  up  his  hands.  " Where 
was  my  head?    Where  have  I  wandered?" 

3.  In  one  thing,  however,  his  duty  and  interest,  his  generosity 
and  his  terrors  ooincided. 

4.  Listen,  and  for  organ  music  thou  wilt  ever,  as  of  old,  hear 
the  Morning  Stars  sing  together. 

5.  An  ancient  manor,  now  rich  with  cultivation,  then  barren 
and  unenclosed,  lay  about  a  day's  journey  south  of  Leeds,  on 
the  verge  of  a  wild  moorland  tract  which  was  known  by  the 
name  of  Hallamshire. 

6.  Small  critics  do  what  they  can  to  promote  unbelief  and 
universal  spiritual  paralysis;  but  happily  they  cannot  always 
completely  succeed. 

7.  He  was  asked  if  he  repented  of  his  treason  twice;  and  he 
replied  twice  that,  if  the  thing  were  to  do  again,  he  would  do  it. 

8.  We  were  both  convinced  that  the  house,  every  corner  of 
which  breathed  an  atmosphere  of  treachery,  was  alive  with 
hidden  spies,  as  I  have  said. 

9.  It  seemed  a  wonder  to  poor  people,  looking  up  under  moist 
eyebrows,  where  all  the  snow  came  from. 

10.  All,  indeed,  were  agreed  as  to  the  propriety  of  inflicting 
punishment  on  some  unhappy  men  who  were,  at  that  moment, 
objects  of  almost  universal  hatred. 

11.  Mechanically  he  stood  still;  mechanically  wiped  the  per- 
spiration from  his  brow. 

12.  Equipped  with  an  impenetrable  disguise,  as  it  were,  the 
commander  sipped  his  brandy  and  soda  in  security. 

13.  A  man,  be  the  heavens  ever  praised,  is  sufficient  for  him- 
self; yet  were  ten  men,  united  in  Love,  capable  of  being  and 
doing  what  ten  thousand  singly  would  fail  in.  Infinite  is  the 
help  man  can  yield  to  man. 

14.  Of  all  the  enemies  of  the  court  he  was  the  most  deeply 
criminal,  without  doubt. 


THE  SENTENCE  77 

15.  Rome  blazoned  the  fame  of  barbarian  triumphs  in  her 
downfall. 

16.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  although  careless  of  his  appear- 
ance. 

17.  I  care  not,  if  it  be  so  or  not. 

18.  He  said  "Life  is  short/'  lightly. 

45.  The  Sentence  in  Relation  to  Other  Sentences. — 

A  sentence,  as  has  been  said,  rarely  stands  alone;  it  is  al- 
most always  a  part  of  a  group, — the  paragraph  or  the  whole 
composition.  Its  group  relations,  therefore,  are  important. 
Grammar  is  a  matter  of  the  individual  sentence,  but  coher- 
ence of  thought,  which  is  more  important  even  than  correct 
grammar,  and  variety  of  form,  which  is  essential  to  force 
of  expression,  are  largely  matters  of  sentence  grouping. 

46.  What  Shall  Each  Sentence  Contain? — You  wish 
to  develop  an  idea,  not  in  a  simple  sentence,  but  in  a  group 
of  sentences.  What  part  of  the  general  development  shall 
be  allotted  to  each  sentence  ?  Consider  the  following  para- 
graph: 

The  system  was  very  simple,  consisting  of  fines  for  every  con- 
ceivable mistake.  These  fines  were  deducted  from  our  pay,  and 
the  result  was  that  at  the  end  of  a  week  of  hard  work  we  might 
actually  owe  the  company  money.  This  case  really  had  oc- 
curred once  or  twice  and  there  was  no  doubt  the  plan  was  ex- 
tremely profitable  to  the  company,  but  you  can  understand  why 
we  girls  objected. 

What  are  the  ideas  here?  (1)  The  plan  itself;  (2)  how 
it  worked;  (3)  the  attitude  of  the  company;  (4)  the  attitude 
of  the  girls.  There  can  be  no  wise  correction  of  the  sen- 
tences until  these  ideas  are  seen  in  their  relation  to  each 
other.  Once  they  are  perceived,  however,  correction  be- 
comes the  easiest  thing  in  the  world,  because  these  ideas 
have  after  all  been  set  down  in  their  right  order.  We 
write: — 


78  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

(1)  The  system  was  very  simple.  It  consisted  of  fines  for 
every  conceivable  mistake,  deducted  from  our  pay.  (2)  The 
result  was  that  at  the  end  of  a  week  of  hard  work,  we  might 
actually  owe  the  company  money,  and  indeed  once  or  twice  a 
girl  had  been  in  this  situation.  (3)  There  was  no  doubt  that 
the  plan  was  extremely  profitable  to  the  company.  (4)  But  you 
can  understand  why  we  girls  objected  to  it. 

What  is  the  inference  from  this  revision  ?  Sentences  are 
very  elastic  affairs;  not  like  pint  cups  into  which  you  can 
get  only  so  much,  but  like  a  small  boy's  pockets,  which  will 
hold  whatever  he  chooses  to  put  into  them, — lunch,  bait  and 
fish.  The  skilful  writer  puts  into  each  sentence,  therefore, 
all  he  needs;  he  fits  his  sentences  to  his  ideas,  not  his  ideas 
to  some  one  form  of  sentence.  No  matter  how  much  lunch 
he  takes,  or  how  much  bait,  he  gets  it  all  in  easily.  But  he 
does  not  put  lunch,  bait  and  fish  all  into  the  same  pocket. 

47.  The  Relation  of  One  Sentence  to  Another. — 
Every  sentence  serves  a  double  purpose;  it  has  a  meaning 
of  its  own,  and  it  helps  to  make  clearer  the  meaning  of  some 
other  sentence.    Take  such  a  sentence  as  the  following: 

She  is  wearing  a  blue  dress  and  has  a  nurse  with  her. 

This  seems  absurdly  disconnected.  But  let  us  add  an- 
other sentence. 

You  can  pick  out  Dorothy  easily  enough.  She  is  wearing  a 
blue  dress  and  has  a  nurse  with  her. 

At  once  the  original  sentence  becomes  plain.  Another 
illustration: 

One  is  the  Red,  the  other  the  Arkansas. 

What  does  it  mean  ? 

There  are  two  big  rivers  in  that  country.  One  is  the  Red,  the 
other  the  Arkansas. 


THE  SENTENCE  79 

Every  sentence  you  write,  then,  should  be  both  set  down 
and  revised  in  the  light  of  its  relation  to  other  sentences. 
This  is  really  the  great  matter  of  composition.  Even  a 
careful  arrangement  of  topics,  even  accurate  grammar,  are 
of  less  importance.  (See  page  40  for  a  discussion  of  what 
is  really  the  same  matter,  only  there  looked  at  from  the 
point  of  view  of  the  paragraph.)  A  further  enumeration 
of  devices  for  exhibiting  this  relation  is  perhaps  more  con- 
fusing than  helpful.  You  must  think  each  case  out  for 
yourself.    Yet  certain  advice  may  be  given. 

(1)  Use  relation-words  (however,  and,  but,  nevertheless, 
etc.)  freely. 

(2)  When  you  merely  repeat  an  idea  in  other  words, 
however,  do  not  make  the  mistake  of  using  a  connective. 

He  was  a  strange  boy,  and  he  always  liked  to  play  alone. 
Here  the  same  idea  is  repeated;  and,  therefore,  is  not 
wanted,  and  should  be  stricken  out.  He  was  a  strange 
boy;   he  always  liked  to  play  alone. 

(3)  Keep  the  same  subject  and  use  parallel  structure 
when  you  can.  Note  the  value  in  coherence  of  the  con- 
stant repetition  of  he  in  the  following  paragraph: — 

A  child's  imagination  deals  all  with  lay  figures  and  stage  prop- 
erties. When  his  story  comes  to  the  fighting,  he  must  rise,  get 
something  by  way  of  a  sword,  and  have  a  set-to  with  a  piece  of 
furniture  until  he  is  out  of  breath.  When  he  comes  to  ride  with 
the  king's  pardon,  he  must  bestride  a  chair  ...  ;  if  his  romance 
involves  an  accident  upon  a  cliff,  he  must  clamber  in  person 
about  the  chest  of  drawers  and  fall  bodily  upon  the  carpet  before 
his  imagination  is  satisfied.  .  .  .  Nothing  can  stagger  a  child's 
faith;  he  accepts  the  clumsiest  substitutes  and  can  swallow  the 
most  staring  incongruities.  The  chair  he  has  been  besieging  as 
a  castle  is  taken  away  for  the  accommodation  of  a  morning 
visitor,  and  he  is  nothing  abashed;  he  can  skirmish  by  the  hour 
with  a  stationary  coal-scuttle;  in  the  midst  of  the  enchanted 
garden,  he  can  see  without  shock  the  gardener  soberly  digging 
potatoes  for  the  day's  dinner. — Stevenson,  Child's  Play. 


80  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

(4)  Above  all  things  remember  that  an  idea  can  be  ex- 
pressed in  many  ways.  A  sentence  is  easier  to  twist  and 
turn  than  a  rubber  band.  If  one  form  seems  incoherent, 
try  another.  Make  two  sentences  into  one;  or  cut  one  in 
two.  Learn  to  think  of  your  sentences  not  only  by  them- 
selves, as  units,  but  as  parts  of  a  group;  it  is  these  groups 
of  sentences  which  really  develop  your  ideas. 

Exercise. 

Rewrite  the  following  passages,  re-arranging  the  sen- 
tences as  you  please,  to  bring  out  most  clearly  the  various 
ideas  and  their  relation  to  each  other. 

1.  We  have  described  the  dismemberment  of  the  Kingdom  of 
the  Netherlands  in  1830.  We  have  also  described  the  years  suc- 
ceeding, that  kingdom,  which  included  what  we  know  as  Holland 
and  Belgium,  having  been  the  work  of  the  Congress  of  Vienna. 
Created  as  a  bulwark  against  France,  the  Belgians  had  revolted, 
but  supported  in  the  end  by  some  of  the  great  powers,  they  had 
won  their  independence,  and  since  then  there  have  been  two 
kingdoms. 

2.  There  are  three  reasons  why  you  had  better  not  take  up  the 
newspaper  profession,  the  first  being  the  matter  of  health,  in 
regard  to  which  you  have  not  the  requisite  physical  strength  to 
stand  the  nervous  strain  and  the  hard  work,  and  in  the  second 
place  the  character  of  the  work  itself.  It  is  often  unpleasant,  if 
not  actually  repellent,  and  though  it  may  give  you  a  short  cut 
to  a  general  knowledge  of  life,  in  the  end,  for  the  third  reason, 
it  is  likely  to  place  a  definite  limit  on  your  literary  achievement. 

3.  A  number  of  people  gathered  around  to  watch  him  crank 
up  the  machine  and  he  started  off  gaily  waving  his  hand,  but 
almost  immediately  they  were  lost  to  view  and  he  entered  a 
stretch  of  woods.  These  woods  were  so  dense  that  he  was  una- 
ware of  a  gathering  darkness  overhead  and  was  much  surprised 
on  coming  out  on  the  other  side  to  find  himself  facing  a  driving 
rain.     But  hastily  he  turned  up  his  collar. 

4.  Swimming  is  not  so  easy  as  it  seems  when  you  are  standing 
beside  the  pool  watching  the  others.    But  in  the  water  you  go 


THE  SENTENCE  81 

through  the  exercises  and  are  as  stiff  as  a  yard  stick  and  when  you 
let  go  of  the  pole  you  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  tank,  though  of 
course  they  fish  you  out  immediately.  And  in  many  cases,  a 
feeling  that  you  must  struggle  to  keep  above  water  causes  your 
sinking,  but  you  cannot  seem  to  help  the  feeling  that  you  are 
going  to  drown. 

5.  My  brother  and  I  decided  one  summer  to  go  on  a  camping 
trip  through  the  Adirondacks,  and  everything  was  in  readiness. 
We  had  bought  the  necessary  outfit,  and  mapped  out  our  route 
for  one  month  ahead.  The  route  was  to  take  us  through  the 
whole  north  woods,  but  my  brother  was  suddenly  taken  ill  and 
had  typhoid  fever  and  our  trip  was  completely  spoilt. 

6.  The  flames  had  already  burst  through  the  roof  when  the 
fire  engine  arrived,  dashing  madly  around  the  corner  followed  by 
the  hook  and  ladder,  and  almost  running  over  some  of  the  crowd 
that  had  gathered  in  the  street.  They  sent  up  a  yell  when  they 
saw  it,  and  the  firemen  soon  had  long  coils  of  snaky  hose  directed 
at  the  root  of  the  trouble,  and  were  swarming  up  the  ladders 
like  ants.  The  first  one  to  reach  the  top  heard  a  warning  shout 
from  those  below,  and  the  next  instant  there  was  a  thundering 
crash  as  a  chimney  tumbled. 

7.  The  University  of offers  help  in  various  ways  to 

students  who  need  it,  and  they  do  not  feel  that  they  are  dis- 
graced because  they  are  working  for  what  they  get.  Scholar- 
ships are  awarded  to  those  who  do  excellent  work  in  their  studies, 
and  if  they  do  good  work  but  not  quite  so  good,  they  can  get  a 
service  scholarship.  It  also  finds  outside  employment  for  such 
as  desire  it,  so  there  are  plenty  of  ways  for  the  poor  student  who 
cares  enough  for  an  education  to  get  it. 

8.  The  affair  was  ridiculous  and  trivial  in  the  extreme,  and 
her  lack  of  any  sense  of  humor  was  the  cause  of  the  trouble,  in 
the  first  place.  Having  said  she  would  do  it  if  the  others  did, 
she  backed  out,  and  they,  thinking  that  she  would  be  with  them, 
went  ahead  and  sent  the  letter,  signing  her  name  with  theirs, 
and  then  when  she  heard  about  it,  she  told  the  whole  thing,  but 
they  were  so  provoked  at  her  that  they  did  not  care  about  any- 
thing else. 

9.  Will  you  kindly  inform  the  chairman  of  the  heat  and  venti- 
lation committee  that  the  conditions  in  the  class-room  can  be  im- 
proved, if  he  will  take  the  trouble  to  come  and  see  for  himself 
that  the  air  draught  is  out  of  order  ?  It  has  not  worked  well  ever 
since  it  was  installed,  and  it  can  be  fixed  without  much  expense 


82  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

or  trouble,  but  the  authorities  are  very  careless  in  regard  to  these 
matters. 

10.  He  wrote  his  mother  that  he  would  be  home  sometime  dur- 
ing the  following  week,  but  that  he  had  met  an  interesting  man 
from  the  west  who  was  surveying  in  Arizona  for  the  Government 
and  knew  some  of  their  old  friends,  and  not  to  expect  him  until 
she  saw  him.  But  in  any  case,  he  would  be  home  by  the  end  of 
the  week.  He  had  an  engagement  that  could  not  be  broken  for 
Saturday,  and  he  sent  her  his  love. 

48.  Variety  of  Sentence-Form.— Sentences  must  be  con- 
sidered as  parts  of  a  group,  for  the  sake  not  only  of  clearness 
but  also  of  variety.  No  form  of  the  sentence,  simple,  com- 
plex, or  compound,  is  intrinsically  better  than  another.  But 
variety  of  form  is  essential.  A  succession  of  short  or  long 
sentences,  all  of  the  same  general  construction,  stupefies  the 
attention  of  the  reader,  and  indicates  also  that  the  writer  is 
not  properly  distinguishing  the  units  of  his  thought.  No 
rules  can  be  given  for  securing  variety  of  form,  but  certain 
types  of  construction  may  very  well  be  studied* 

The  Simple  Sentence.  The  value  of  the  simple  sentence 
is  in  its  unmistakable  concentration  upon  the  main  idea. 

The  man  disappeared. 

He  took  the  ring. 

We  stared  at  each  other. 

Now  a  simple  sentence  may  be  very  considerably  com- 
plicated without  losing  this  power  of  concentrated  em- 
phasis.   Complication  is  the  result  of  using 

(a)  a  compound  subject,  or  a  compound  predicate  or 
both. 

(b)  modifying  phrases. 

The  following,  for  example,  are  simple  sentences: 

The  man,  the  vehicle,  and  the  pursuer  all  disappeared  in  a 
cloud  of  dust. 


THE  SENTENCE  83 

He  took  it,  thrust  it  in  his  pocket,  bowed  very  low,  and  left 
me. 

The  three  pirates  and  I  simultaneously  leaped  up  and  stared 
at  each  other. 

There  is  a  rapidity  and  clear  vigor  about  such  sentences 
that  makes  them  particularly  suitable  for  narration,  or  ex- 
position of  familiar  matters.  They  hurry  the  mind,  but 
do  not  confuse  it. 

The  Complex  Sentence.  The  complex  sentence  is  less 
concentrated  than  the  simple,  and  less  symmetrical.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  allows  the  presentation  of  more  subtle 
ideas,  of  statements  which  demand  qualifications  and  con- 
ditions. As  the  rapid  simple  sentence  is  the  fundamental 
type  for  narration,  so  the  complex  sentence  is  the  funda- 
mental type  for  difficult  exposition  and  argument.  In  the 
use  of  the  complex  sentence,  two  things  are  chiefly  to  be 
considered,  the  form  and  the  position  of  the  dependent 
clause  or  clauses. 

Form.  A  dependent  clause  may  be  formed  by  the  use 
of  a  participle. 

Not  knowing  where  we  were,  we  stopped. 

Or  by  the  use  of  an  infinitive: 

To  find  out  where  we  were,  we  stopped. 

Or  by  the  use  of  a  subordinate  conjunction: 

We  stopped,  because  we  did  not  know  where  we  were. 

Or  by  the  use  of  a  relative  pronoun: 

We  stopped  at  the  request  of  the  man  who  was  leading. 

Or  by  the  use  of  a  relative  adverb: 

We  stopped  when  we  found  out  that  nobody  knew 
where  we  were. 

That  form  is  best  in  any  given  case,  of  course,  which  best 
presents  the  exact  shade  of  the  writer's  idea.  But  to  ad- 
here to  one  form  only,  throughout  many  sentences,  is  un- 
wise. 


84  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Position.  If  a  complex  sentence  has  but  one  depend- 
ent clause,  obviously  that  clause  may  be  placed  either 
before  or  after  the  independent  clause.  For  reasons  of  em- 
phasis, it  should,  when  possible,  be  placed  before;  this  ar- 
rangement, however,  the  necessity  of  first  being  clear  will 
often  not  permit.  In  sentences  having  more  than  one 
dependent  clause,  the  question  of  position  is  still  more  com- 
plicated. If  the  dependent  clauses  stand  in  the  same  rela- 
tion to  the  rest  of  the  sentence,  they  usually  should  not  only 
be  alike  in  form,  but  should  also  be  placed  both  before  or 
both  after  the  part  of  the  sentence  they  modify. 

(a)  While  I  was  in  college  I  kept  up  my  interest  in  stamp- 
collecting,  and  even  while  I  was  in  the  law-school. 

(b)  While  I  was  in  college,  and  even  while  I  was  in  the  law- 
school,  I  kept  up  my  interest  in  stamp-collecting. 

If  the  dependent  clauses  do  not  stand  in  the  same 
grammatical  relation,  considerations  of  clearness  and  em- 
phasis, in  that  order,  should  govern  their  use. 

Consider  the  variety  of  position  and  form  of  the  depend- 
ent clauses  in  the  following  passage: 

"The  dream  commenced  with  a  music  which  now  I  often  heard 
in  dreams — a  music  of  preparation  and  of  awakening  suspense;  a 
music  like  the  opening  of  the  Coronation  anthem,  and  which,  like 
that,  gave  the  feeling  of  a  vast  march — of  infinite  cavalcades  filing 
off — and  the  tread  of  innumerable  armies.  The  morning  was 
come  of  a  mighty  day — a  day  of  crisis  and  of  final  hope  for  human 
nature,  then  suffering  some  mysterious  eclipse,  and  laboring  in 
some  dread  extremity.  Somewhere,  I  knew  not  where — somehow, 
I  knew  not  how — by  some  beings,  I  knew  not  whom — a  battle,  a 
strife,  an  agony,  was  conducting,  was  evolving  like  a  great  drama, 
or  piece  of  music;  with  which  my  sympathy  was  the  more  insupport- 
able from  my  confusion  as  to  its  place,  its  cause,  its  nature,  and 
its  possible  issue.  I,  as  is  usual  in  dreams  (where,  of  necessity, 
we  make  ourselves  central  to  every  movement),  had  the  power,  and 


THE  SENTENCE  85 

yet  had  not  the  power  to  decide  it.  I  had  the  power  if  I  could 
raise  myself,  to  will  it;  and  yet  again  had  not  the  power,  for  the 
weight  of  twenty  Atlantics  was  upon  me,  or  the  oppression  of  an 
expiable  guilt.  Deeper  than  ever  plummet  sounded,  I  lay  inactive." 
— De  Quincey,  Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater. 

The  Compound  Sentence.  The  compound  sentence  allies 
itself  with  the  simple,  as  the  compound-complex  allies  itself 
with  the  complex.  But  one  further  suggestion  about  using 
the  simplest  form  of  compound  sentence  may  be  added,  in 
the  words  of  Punch's  advice  to  those  about  to  wed, "  Don't." 
It  is  one  of  the  loosest  and  most  monotonous  types  possible. 
(As  an  illustration  of  its  employment,  see  the  example  given 
on  p.  68.)  But  compound  sentences  complicated  by 
compound  subjects  and  predicates,  and  relieved  of  their 
bareness  by  modifying  phrases,  are  indispensable,  especially 
in  narration. 


SECTION  IV. 
Words. 

49.  The   Characteristics   of  a  Good  Vocabulary. — 

A  word  is  something  more  than  a  mere  combination  of 
letters.  It  is  the  definite  symbol  of  an  idea.  A  man's 
words  are  so  intimately  connected  with  his  thought  that 
almost  always  a  small  vocabulary  means  an  immature  or 
feeble  thinker;  and  although  a  fluent  speaker  or  writer 
has  not  necessarily  anything  to  say  worth  listening  to,  it 
is  true  nevertheless  that  to  widen  one's  vocabulary  is  to 
increase  the  range  of  one's  ideas. 

No  man  can  write  effectively  unless  his  vocabulary  pos- 
sesses three  fundamental  characteristics :  the  first  is  exact- 
ness, the  second  suggestiveness,  and  the  third  propriety. 

50.  Exactness. — The  exact  word  is  the  word  which  ex- 
presses with  precision  the  writer's  meaning.  Most  often 
the  exact  word  is  the  specific  word,  that  is  to  say,  the  word 
which  is  narrow  in  its  range.  Vegetable  is  a  general  word, 
cabbage  is  specific,  because  it  narrows  the  idea  contained 
in  vegetable,  it  points  out  a  particular  kind  of  vegetable. 
Building  material  is  general,  brick  and  lath  and  plaster  and 
scantling  are  all  specific  words.  Some  distance  is  general, 
mile  is  specific.  Scoundrel  is  general,  thief  is  specific; 
burglar  is  more  specific  still.  You  should  use  specific 
words  constantly  for  two  reasons:  in  the  first  place  for 
your  own  sake,  and  in  the  second  place  for  the  sake  of 
ydur  reader.  For  your  own  sake,  because  when  you  use 
a  specific  word  you  force  yourself  to  realize  exactly  what 
your  idea  is,  and  so  teach  yourself  to  avoid  those  vague- 

86 


WORDS  87 

nesses,  those  "glittering  generalities,"  which  are  the  curse 
of  careless  thinking.  For  your  reader's  sake,  because  most 
people  think  in  images,  not  in  abstractions;  and  it  is  the 
specific  word  which  gives  the  image.  "My  mother,"  says 
one  girl,  "when  I  left  home  after  Christmas,  bade  me  an 
affectionate  farewell."  "What  do  you  mean  by  an  affec- 
tionate farewell?"  asks  another.  "Well,"  says  the  first, 
"she  gave  me  a  kiss  and  a  ten-dollar  bill."  That  is  speci- 
fication. 

Yet  there  are  times  when  the  specific  word  does  not  so 
precisely  express  the  meaning  of  the  writer  as  the  general 
word.  Arnold  writes:  "But  culture  indefatigably  tries, 
not  to  make  what  each  raw  person  may  like  the  rule  by 
which  he  fashions  himself,  but  to  draw  ever  nearer  to  a 
sense  of  what  is  indeed  beautiful,  graceful,  and  becoming, 
and  to  get  the  raw  person  to  like  that."  Here  the  phrase, 
"a  sense  of  what  is  indeed  beautiful,  graceful  and  be- 
coming," is  general  in  its  diction  and  not  specific,  because 
Arnold's  idea  was  a  general  and  not  a  specific  idea.  When 
you  write  home:  "  I  have  been  going  out  a  good  deal  in  the 
last  two  months  and  having  a  very  good  time,  but  I  am  now 
tired  enough  of  it  to  want  to  settle  down  to  the  hardest 
kind  of  hard  work,"  your  phrases,  "  going  out  a  good  deal," 
"having  a  good  time,"  "tired  enough,"  and  "the  hardest 
kind  of  hard  work,"  are  all  general.  Had  you  written, 
"I  have  been  attending  three  dances,  a  play,  and  a  con- 
cert each  week  since  the  17th  of  January,  and  I  have 
gained  six  pleasant  new  acquaintances  and  accumulated 
a  large  stock  of  dance  programs  and  ticket  stubs;  but  I 
have  now  got  so  tired  that  I  go  to  sleep  every  day  in  my 
classes,  and  I  mean  to  get  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock  every 
night  after  a  ten-hour  day  spent  in  study,"  you  would  have 
substituted  specific  terms  for  general  and  your  sentence 
would  have  gained  in  vividness.    But  it  would  not  have 


88  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

expressed  your  idea  with  the  same  exactness.  It  would 
have  become  a  caricature  of  what  you  really  meant.  A 
little  study  of  the  modern  magazine-story  will  show  you  to 
what  a  wild  extent  the  craze  for  specification  has  led  many 
writers.  Let  your  phraseology  then  be  general  or  specific 
to  express  as  exactly  as  you  can  your  meaning. 

Note,  however,  that  nobody  can  write  with  exactness 
who  has  not  a  reasonably  wide  vocabulary.  It  is  possible 
to  travel  comfortably  in  a  foreign  country  with  a  stock  of 
perhaps  five  or  six  hundred  words.  Shakespeare  expressed 
all  his  complicated  ideas  with  not  more  than  fifteen  thou- 
sand words.  The  language  affords  a  variety  of  nearer 
three  hundred  thousand  than  two.  How  large  is  your  own 
stock? 

You  wish  to  convey  the  information  that  a  certain  man 
of  your  acquaintance  walks  with  very  short  steps  in  al- 
most a  ridiculous  fashion.  The  verb  mince  will  give  the 
idea  exactly.  No  other  verb  will.  If  you  have  not  that 
word  in  your  vocabulary,  how  can  you  exactly  convey 
your  meaning  ? 

What  are  the  differences  among  culture  and  education  and 
scholarship  and  knowledge  and  wisdom  f  You  hear  every 
one  of  these  words  used  almost  every  day.  But  are  they  all 
in  your  vocabulary  ?  That  is  to  say,  do  you  know  exactly 
what  each  one  means  ?  For  as  a  matter  of  fact  most  of  us 
possess  two  vocabularies :  one,  so  to  speak,  for  comprehen- 
sion, and  one  for  expression,  one  consisting  of  words  which 
we  understand  and  the  other  of  words  which  we  actually 
employ.  Sustained,  concentrate,  pecuniary,  disproportioned, 
indisputable,  reiterate,  perpetual,  superiority,  induce,  ardent, 
precision,  lamentation,  resound:  these  words,  taken  from  a 
single  paragraph  of  Matthew  Arnold,  you  understand  the 
meaning  of  in  every  case:  but  how  many  of  them  do  you 
actually  use?     Words  far  simpler — headstrong,   mumble, 


WORDS  89 

ransack,  squabble,  flinch,  snug,  haggle, — do  you  use  any  of 
these  even?  Snatch,  seize,  grasp,  clasp,  clutch, — would 
you  use  one  of  these  according  to  the  circumstances,  or 
would  you  say  indifferently  get  hold  off  Even  of  the  class 
of  words  which  we  may  call  mechanical,  which  are  em- 
ployed not  to  express  ideas  in  themselves  but  to  tie  the 
ideas  of  other  words  together — moreover,  notwithstanding, 
in  consequence,  nevertheless,  except,  thence, — do  you  em- 
ploy these  terms,  or  do  you  stick  to  such  old  friends  as 
and,  but,  for,  however,  and  particularly  so? 

How  shall  you  increase  your  vocabulary  ?  By  reading, 
to  get  a  larger  stock  of  words  you  understand;  and  then  by 
deliberately  using  these  words  in  your  writing.  There  is  no 
other  way.  You,  more  certainly  than  anyone  else,  know 
when  you  feel  cramped  in  the  expression  of  your  ideas.  On 
such  occasions  take  the  dictionary,  turn  to  the  old  familiar 
word  you  are  tempted  to  use,  and  find  two  or  three  syno- 
nyms for  it.  Look  up  these  synonyms,  and  use  the  one 
which  most  precisely  fits  your  thought. 

The  matter  of  reduction  of  predication  enters  in  here. 
Often  you  use  half  a  dozen  words  because  you  cannot  think 
of  the  right  one.  He  was  not  exactly  dull,  but  he  did  not  like 
to  talk  when  anybody  was  around  who  was  not  one  of  his  in- 
timate friends.  He  was  not  exactly  dull,  but  preferred 
silence  except  among  his  intimate  friends.  Be  sure  of  this : 
in  the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  the  fewer  words  you  use  to 
make  yourself  clear,  the  better  chance  you  have  of  being 
listened  to.  Widen  your  vocabulary,  therefore,  not  that 
you  may  use  many  or  large  words,  but  that  you  may  use 
few,  and  those  few  exact  for  the  occasion. 

51.  Suggestiveness. — Suggestiveness  in  diction  is  the 
power  to  stir  the  imagination.  The  most  suggestive  words 
are  those  which  are  in  themselves  familiar  but  which  are 
used  in  a  new  context.    Take  for  example  the  verb  ripple. 


90  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Used  in  the  phrase,  The  water  rippled  over  the  stones,  nothing 
could  be  more  conventional  and  familiar.  The  phrase  is 
dull.  It  has  been  used  so  often  that  it  has  become  stale. 
But  in  the  sentence,  The  color  rippled  in  her  cheek,  the  word 
rippled  strikes  freshly  upon  our  attention.  Yet  it  has  not 
changed  its  form;  it  has  only  changed  its  context.  There 
is  nothing  interesting  or  suggestive  in  the  phrase,  the  army 
marched.  To  say  the  story  marched,  however,  is  to  use  a 
suggestive  phrase,  and  to  speak  of  the  marching  stars  in 
heaven  is  to  be  more  suggestive  still.  Take  the  word  tram- 
pling: standing  alone  it  conveys  no  very  striking  meaning. 
But  as  Wordsworth  uses  it:  "the  lightning,  the  fierce 
wind  and  trampling  waves,"  it  becomes  notable.  "Here, 
where  the  moors  stretch  free  in  the  high  blue  afternoon,  are 
the  marching  sun  and  the  talking  sea";  high,  blue,  march- 
ing, talking,  are  all  effective  here,  not  in  themselves,  but 
in  their  fresh  relations.  "The  proud  republic  hath  not 
stooped  to  cheat  and  scramble  in  the  marketplace":  cheat 
and  scramble  are  not  uncommon  words,  but  they  become 
vivid  in  their  connection  here.  (1)  The  sun  shines.  (2) 
"Roses  that  down  the  alley  shine  afar."  The  whole  dif- 
ference in  the  value  of  the  verb  shine  in  these  two  sentences 
is  in  its  relation  to  the  context.  A  familiar  word  has  as- 
sociations, a  definite  meaning  known  to  everybody.  Trans- 
fer that  word  to  a  new  context  and  it  carries  its  old  associa- 
tions with  it  and  so  becomes  doubly  valuable.  Unusual 
words,  such  as  Carlyle,  for  instance,  Stevenson,  and  De 
Quincey  are  so  fond  of  using,  lack  to  some  extent  this  sug- 
gestive power. 

It  is  usually,  too,  the  specific  word  which  stirs  the  imagi- 
nation, which  gives  the  reader  something  to  hold  fast  to. 
"The  barn  was  beautifully  decorated,"  does  not  inspire  the 
imagination.  But  "The  barn  was  crossed  with  strings  of 
Jiolly  and  hung  with  Chinese  lanterns,"  calls  up  a  picture 


WORDS  91 

to  the  reader's  eye.  Half  the  popularity  of  Macaulay,  who, 
with  all  his  faults  as  a  stylist,  is  still  the  most  widely  read 
English  historian  of  the  nineteenth  century,  is  due  to  his 
constant  use  of  specific  instead  of  general  words.  "Eng- 
land," he  writes,  "at  the  time  of  which  we  are  treating 
abounded  with  fickle  and  selfish  politicans  who  transferred 
their  support  to  every  government  as  it  rose."  That  is  an 
idea  expressed  in  general  terms.  But  Macaulay  goes  on: 
"who  kissed  the  hand  of  the  King  in  1640  and  spat  in  his 
face  in  1649,  who  shouted  with  glee  equally  when  Cromwell 
was  inaugurated  in  Westminster  Hall  and  when  he  was 
dug  up  to  be  hanged  at  Tyburn."  So  one  wise  counsel 
for  whoever  wishes  to  interest  his  reader  is:  Use  specific 
words. 

Here  comes  in  also  the  use  of  figures  of  speech, — simile, 
metaphor,  personification,  and  the  rest.  The  classification 
of  such  figures  is  of  scientific  interest,  but,  for  us,  of  com- 
paratively little  importance.  The  purpose  of  the  figures 
of  speech  is  always  to  stir  the  imagination  and  so  to  assist 
the  understanding  of  the  reader. 

Their  value  depends  (1)  on  their  applicability  and  (2)  on 
their  freshness.  "  All  my  old  opinions  were  only  stages  on 
the  way  to  the  one  I  now  hold."  Here  is  an  idea  stated;  do 
you  understand  it  ?  Suppose  a  figure  employed  to  make  it 
clear:  "Because  I  have  reached  Paris,  I  am  not  ashamed 
of  having  passed  through  New  Haven  and  Dieppe.  They 
were  very  good  places  to  pass  through,  and  I  am  none  the 
less  at  my  destination."  You  know  that  New  Haven  and 
Dieppe  are  on  the  road  to  Paris;  you  recognize  the  likeness 
between  passing  through  them  and  passing  through  stages 
of  opinion,  and  so  you  come  to  understand  the  author's 
meaning.  His  figure  of  speech,  in  short,  is  applicable. 
No  figure  is  a  good  figure,  however  beautiful  it  may  be  in 
itself,  unless,  as  here,  it  explains  the  obscure  or  the  unknown 


92  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

m  terms  of  the  well  known.  "  Tom  was  as  tall  as  a  Titan." 
Unless  you  know  something  of  the  Titans  the  figure  is  for 
you  poor,  because  it  compares  Tom's  height  to  something 
unknown.  "Tom  was  as  big  as  a  house."  You  do  not 
know  Tom:  but  you  know  houses  and  therefore  you  can 
imagine  Tom. 

In  the  second  place,  to  have  value  a  figure  of  speech  must 
have  freshness.  "He  was  as  bold  as  a  lion."  "Her  eyes 
shot  fire."  "  Night,  the  dark  sister  of  bright  day."  These 
figures  are  applicable  and  clear,  but  they  are  poor  because 
they  are  old.  How  shall  you  secure  fresh  figures  of  speech  ? 
Only  by  the  power  of  an  active  imagination,  which  ob- 
serves a  likeness  in  some  particular  between  things  which 
are  in  most  respects  utterly  dissimilar.  On  this  point 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  says: 

"  There  is  no  power  I  envy  so  much  ...  as  that  of  see- 
ing analogies  and  making  comparisons.  I  don't  understand 
how  it  is  that  some  minds  are  continually  coupling  thoughts 
or  objects  that  seem  not  in  the  least  related  to  each  other, 
until  all  at  once  they  are  put  in  a  certain  light  and  you 
wonder  that  you  did  not  always  see  that  they  were  as  like  as 
a  pair  of  twins.  It  appears  to  me  a  sort  of  miraculous  gift. " 
— Aviocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table. 

But  it  is  well  to  remember  that  unless  you  have  an  un- 
usually imaginative  mind,  the  simpler  you  make  your  fig- 
ures the  better.  The  figure  drawn  from  your  own  experi- 
ence maybe  ineffective;  one  drawn  inelaborate  resemblance 
to  something  you  have  read  will  be.  "  The  people  on  Mich- 
igan Avenue  were  thick  as  bees"  "  My  face  was  red  as  fire, 
and  I  stood  there  like  a  post,  trying  to  think  what  to  do." 
"My  conscience  balked."  These  figures  are  at  least  not 
repellent.  "Her  eyes  were  like  sapphires,  set  with  the 
diamonds  of  her  tears."  "My  college  course*  is  the  Alpss 
beyond  which  lies  the  sunny  Italy  of  theological  study." 


WORDS  93 

On  these,  what  loving  care  was  lavished  by  their  writers  ! — 
and  yet  we  can  only  smile  at  the  flamboyance  of  their  effect. 

52.  Propriety. — Finally,  every  word  must  be  used  with 
'propriety.  There  is  good  form  in  words,  just  as  in  man- 
ners. A  man  who  eats  with  his  knife  or  wears  tan  shoes 
with  evening  clothes  attracts  unfavorable  notice.  Accu- 
racy and  suggestiveness  are  more  important  than  propriety, 
just  as  generosity  and  courage  and  enthusiasm  are  more 
important  than  good  form.  But  there  are  few  things  more 
noticeable  than  bad  form;  and  so  to  educated  people  there 
are  few  things  more  noticeable  and  more  annoying  than  a 
lack  of  propriety  in  diction.  Who  sets  good  form  ?  One's 
community,  one's  locality,  one's  nation,  the  whole  educated 
English-speaking  world.  And  so  with  words.  And  one 
must  know  whether  the  words  he  would  use  are  or  are  not 
acceptable  in  the  polite  society  of  letters.  One  calls  his 
parents  ma  and  pa;  another,  mama  and  papa;  a  third, 
mother  and  father.  The  meaning  is  as  clear  in  one  case  as 
in  the  other,  but  the  first  two  terms  have  not  the  sanction  of 
propriety.  A  word  may  be  well  known,  and  yet  not  ac- 
ceptable; such  a  word  is  ain't  Enthuse  is  another  of  the 
same  breed;  so  is  complected.  It  may  be  too  old,  like 
avaunt,  or  too  new,  like  foozle,  or  too  foreign,  like  richerckS 
and  chic,  or  too  provincial,  like  tote.  For  whatever  reason, 
it  is  a  barbarism  till  the  language  accepts  it  to  fellowship. 

Or  it  may  be  an  acceptable  word  misused.  Fix  is  such 
a  word;  it  means  to  fasten,  not  to  repair.  Transpire  is 
another;  it  means  to  leak  out,  to  become  known — not  to 
happen.  Of  these  improprieties,  so-called  ordinary  speech 
and  writing  are  full.  Their  use,  however,  is  a  sure  sign  of 
ignorance,  and  to  avoid  them  is  as  necessary  as  to  avoid 
any  other  social  solecism. 

Here  comes  in  also  the  question  of  slang.  Some  slang  is 
bad  because  it  is  in  bad  taste.     All  slang  is  undesirable 


94  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

because  to  use  it  narrows  your  vocabulary  and  so  nar- 
rows the  range  of  your  ideas.  Take  the  word  guy  and  the 
phrases  cut  it  out  or  beat  it.  They  were  so  popular  in  1911 
that  the  average  boy  scarcely  needed  other  phrases.  The 
result  was  that  he  learned  no  others,  and  no  matter  what 
his  meaning  was  he  forced  it  into  the  rigid  and  unnatural 
limits  of  these  terms.  The  idea  behind  slang  is  a  good  one: 
a  search  for  the  power  and  suggestiveness  that  come  of  a 
fresh  use  of  words.  Says  George  Ade  in  one  of  his  fables, 
speaking  of  an  overworked  shopgirl,  "  And  every  Saturday 
night  her  employer  crowded  three  dollars  on  her."  The 
verb  is  vigorous  and  picturesque.  But  the  trouble  is  that 
the  vocabulary  of  slang  changes  constantly,  and  if  you  use 
slang,  instead  of  increasing  the  number  of  words  at  your 
command  you  merely  go  through  the  process  of  substituting 
new  phrases  for  the  old.  You  do  not  increase  your  stock. 
There  was  a  time  ten  years  ago  when  the  phrase  "  come  off 
the  perch"  was  expressive  of  an  immense  number  of  ideas. 
Who  uses  it  now?  "Cut  it  out,"  which  is  perhaps  its 
nearest  equivalent,  is  in  turn  passing  away. 

And,  furthermore,  the  reader  feels  instinctively  that 
written  composition  is  of  a  higher  order  than  the  spoken 
word,  and  should  be,  therefore,  more  accurate  in  form. 
The  difference  between  writing  and  speaking  in  this  matter 
is  something  like  the  difference  between  your  dress  in  camp 
and  at  a  summer  hotel.  If  you  were  telling  a  friend  of  an 
automobile  accident  you  might  say: 

"The  car  came  up  the  hill  like*a  shot.  All  of  a  sudden 
it  twisted  somehow  into  the  wall  and  out  again,  and  before 
you  could  say  boo  it  was  upset.  Somebody  gave  a  yell  and 
then  it  was  all  over."  If  you  were  writing,  the  chances  are 
you  would  put  it  rather:  "The  car  shot  up  the  slope,  half 
turned  in  a  flash,  leaped  into  the  embankment,  ricocheted 
and  flung  itself  over  and  over  into  the  ditch.     Someone 


WORDS  95 

cried  out  once — that  was  all."  Neither  form  is  perhaps 
better  than  the  other,  but  the  more  careful  diction  of  the 
second  is  suited  to  written  composition.  And  this  demand 
of  greater  care  in  writing  finally  debars  you  from  the  use  of 
slang. 

But  fully  as  bad  as  slang  is  an  undue  splendor  of  diction 
— "fine  writing"  as  it  is  called.  The  lady  who  wears  her 
diamonds  in  the  morning  is  socially  condemned.  Equally 
condemned  is  he  who  uses  an  obviously  elaborate  phrasing 
in  simple  situations.  Mr.  Micawber,  in  David  Copper- 
field,  is  the  great  example  of  the  "fine  writer"  in  literature. 
With  him,  stipendiary  emoluments  means  pay;  expire  of 
inanition  means  starve;  grinding  penurious  circumstances 
means  lack  of  money;  miscellaneous  catalogue  of  unscru- 
pulous chicaneries  means  various  petty  thefts,  and  so  on. 
There  are  many  Mr.  Micawbers  at  present,  some  of  them 
writing  for  country  newspapers.  But  they  are  thinning 
out.  Few  people  after  high-school  days  find  such  phrase- 
ology even  amusing  any  more;  the  practice  of  calling  a 
spade  a  spade  is  constantly  more  popular. 

53.  Tone. — Exactness,  suggestiveness,  and  propriety  in 
the  choice  of  words  are  all,  to  some  extent,  subject  to  a 
higher  law  of  diction — namely,  that  your  phrasing  should 
be  suited  to  your  subject-matter  and  to  your  audience. 
One  who,  like  Milton  in  his  pamphlet  on  the  Freedom  of 
the  Press,  or  like  the  authors  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence, is  filled  with  a  sense  of  the  nobility  and  worth  of 
his  subject,  and  is  writing  for  the  whole  nation,  will  choose 
only  words  whose  associations  are  dignified  and  noble. 
One  who,  like  William  Dean  Ho  wells  or  Mark  Twain, 
writes  usually  in  a  conversational  and  friendly  spirit,  on 
subjects  of  general  interest,  will  permit  himself  a  less  formal 
phraseology.  The  advertising  man,  desirous  of  selling 
goods,  will  study  his  audience  and  fit  his  vocabulary  to 


96  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

their  understanding.  The  right  tone  is  a  question  of  taste; 
but  it  is  an  essential  question.  Of  two  petitions  recently 
presented  by  undergraduates  to  a  college  faculty,  asking 
exemption  from  discipline,  one  ended  "  Allow  me  this  privi- 
lege, and  I  promise  you  that  never  again  shall  my  young 
feet  stray  from  the  straight  path  of  duty  into  the  tangled 
and  thorny  thicket  of  evil-doing."  It  was  greeted  by 
laughter,  and  disregarded.  The  other  petition  declared 
"  Like  Jeffries  at  Reno,  I  find  that  when  I  buck  the  faculty 
I  am  up  against  a  better  man.  If  you  will  give  me  the 
benefit  of  the  doubt  this  time  I  will  never  get  into  the  ring 
with  your  respectable  body  again."  It  shared  the  fate  of 
the  first.  Both  the  aspiring  authors  had  mistaken  the 
proper  tone.  The  applicant  for  a  position  who  tries  to  be 
facetious,  the  newspaper  reporter  who  tries  to  be  eloquent, 
the  freshman  theme-writer  who  tries  to  be  anything  but 
simple  and  clear,  are  all  examples  of  those  in  a  similar 
error. 

54.  Number  of  Words. — Next  in  value  to  command  of 
a  flexible  vocabulary  is  the  power  to  cut  out  unnecessary 
words.  From  an  early  stage  in  composition  you  should 
train  yourself  in  the  use  of  the  blue  pencil.  He  who  makes 
one  word  serve  where  two  have  previously  been  used  is 
a  benefactor  of  his  reader.  Professed  literary  men,  like 
De  Quincey  and  Stevenson,  and  on  the  other  hand  news- 
paper men  who  profess  to  despise  the  "literary  flavor," 
agree  in  this.  Reduction  of  predication,  already  often  men- 
tioned, is  concerned  here  also.  Two  further  points  may 
be  noted. 

1.  Avoid  superfluous  words.  It  disappeared  from  my 
view.  The  house  was  surrounded  by  hills  on  all  sides. 
He  rushed  hurriedly  by.  The  water  was  calm  and  quiet. 
From  whence  he  came,  they  were  powerless  and  unable  to 
discover. 


WORDS  97 

How  persistent  is  the  habit  of  using  superfluous  words 
may  be  illustrated  from  a  recent  text-book  on  composition, 
which  cites  complacently  "The  drooping  boughs  of  the 
willow  lashed  violently  in  the  heavy  wind"  as  an  improve- 
ment upon,  "  The  boughs  of  the  willow  lashed  in  the  wind"  ! 
It  is  just  this  inclusion  of  unnecessary  adjectives  and  ad- 
verbs that  deadens  style. 

2.  Avoid  the  repetition  of  idea.  He  was  a  noble  hero. 
The  army  was  totally  annihilated.  The  house  was  violently 
shaken  to  its  foundations.  The  whole  town  was  burnt  in  a 
general  conflagration.    The  high  hills  towered  above  us. 

Use  as  many  words  as  you  need  to  make  your  meaning 
clear;  a  thousand  which  bring  out  your  idea  are  far  better 
than  a  hundred  which  do  not.  But  use  no  words  which  you 
can  spare. 

55.  Idiom. — Every  language  has  hundreds  of  phrases 
which  cannot  be  literally  translated  into  another  language. 
In  every  language  also  are  turns  of  speech  which  cannot 
be  justified  on  sound  logic  only,  but  are  the  result  of  con- 
tinued and  general  usage.  Such  things  make  up  idiom. 
Able  to  do;  capable  of  doing;  sent  to  jail,  sent  to  the  peni- 
tentiary; to  make  a  few  remarks,  to  say  a  few  words;  an 
aversion  to  spiders,  a  hatred  of  spiders;  he  confided  in  me, 
he  confided  his  secret  to  me;  his  mind  was  easy,  his  heart  was 
at  rest — these  and  a  thousand  other  such  phrases  must  be 
known.  The  foreigner,  who  does  not  know  them,  writes 
and  speaks  in  a  way  to  amuse  us;  we  amuse  him  equally 
when  we  use  his  language.  The  acqui  ition  of  idiom  is 
preliminary  to  any  mastery  of  expression. 

Perhaps  the  most  constant  violations  of  idiom,  by  college 
students  at  least,  occur  in  translations  from  the  languages. 
The  sentence-order  (see  p.  74)  of  English  is  so  different 
from  that  of  Latin,  or  French,  or  German  that  a  word  for 
Vord  translation  is  always  awkward  and  usually  mislead- 


98  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

ing  or  obscure.  "  Caesar  having  said  these  things,  the  as- 
sembly was  dismissed/ '  is  an  accurate  translation  from  the 
Latin,  but  English  idiom  demands,  "When  Csesar  had 
ended,  the  assembly  was  dismissed."  "The  young  girl 
became  over  and  over  red  "  may  be  a  literal  rendition  from 
the  French,  but  it  is  not  English.  Nobody,  however,  thinks 
of  using  such  phrases  except  in  translation,  and  no  detailed 
discussion  of  the  fault  is  necessary. 

Exercises. 

Exactness. — 1.  Make  a  list  of  all  the  specific  words  you 
can  think  of  which  are  included  in  the  meaning  of  each  of 
the  following  general  words: 

Think — e.  g.,  ponder,  meditate,  scheme,  plan,  believe. 

(Note  that  here  as  always,  one  word  is  not  exactly  synonymous 
with  another.  "Believe"  exactly  expresses  one  shade  of  meaning 
contained  in  "think";  "meditate"  exactly  expresses  another; 
but  "believe"  and  "meditate"  are  not  synonymous  at  all.) 

Verbs:    walk,  say,  like,  convey,  resist,  change,  study,  work. 
Nouns:    fear,  stream,  happiness,  education,  child,  difficulty. 
Adjectives:  warm,  bright,  sincere,  good,  elegant,  mean,  tired, 
dull,  quiet,  rapid. 

2.  Frame  sentences  which  shall  show  clearly  the  dif- 
ferences in  meaning  of  the  words  on  your  list;  e.  g.,  He 
pondered  this  question  all  day.  She  talked  a  good  deal, 
but  thought  very  little.  He  believed  in  the  principle  of 
free-trade.  She  planned  to  bring  the  two  together.  He 
schemed  and  plotted  all  in  vain. 

3.  Fill  in  the  blanks  in  the  following  sentences  with 
words  which  shall  exactly  express  the  writer's  meaning  as 
you  understand  it. 


WORDS  99 

I  found  each  wave,  instead  of  the  big mountain 

it  looks  from  shore,  was  for  all  the  world  like  my of  hills 

on  the  dry  land,  full  of and  smooth  places  and . 

The  coracle  [boat],  left  to  herself,  turning  from  side  to  side, 

so  to  speak,  her  way  through  these  lower  parts,  and the 

steep  slopes  and  higher summits  of  the  wave. 

"Well,  now,"  thought  I  to  myself,  "it  is  plain  I  must  lie  where 

I  am,  and  not the  balance;   but  it  is  plain,  also,  that  I 

can  put  the  paddle  over  the  side,  and  from  time  to  time 

her  a or  two  toward  land."     No  sooner  thought  upon 

than  done.    There  I  lay  on  my  elbows,  in  a  most attitude, 

and  every  now  and  then  gave  a stroke  or  two  to  turn  her 

head  to  shore. 

It  was  very ,  and work,  yet  I  did gain 

ground;  and,  as  I  drew  near  the  Cape  of  the  Woods,  though  I 
saw  I  must miss  that  point,  I  had  still some  hun- 
dred yards.  I  could  see  the green  tree-tops to- 
gether in  the  breeze,  and  I  felt  sure  I  should the  next 

promontory  without  fail." — Stevenson,  Treasure  Island. 

Suggestiveness. — 1.  Use  the  following  words  as  effec- 
tively as  you  can  in  sentences;  e.  g.,  roguish.  "Roguish 
laughter"  is  trite  and  dull;  "a  roguish  and  stupid  fellow" 
is  exact;  "  the  roguish  days  and  sleep-filled  nights  of  child- 
hood" is  suggestive. 

Murmur,  cosy,  nice,  sulky,  gorgeous,  elegant,  magnificent,  stu- 
pid, cheap,  clip  (V.),  shine  (V.),  speedy,  refreshment,  maiden  (N.), 
hustle,  rush,  snatch. 

2.  In  the  following  passage,  substitute  where  you  can, 
more  suggestive  words  for  those  in  italic. 

We  had  a  heavy  thunderstorm  at  Natchez,  another  at  Vicks- 
burg,  and  still  another  about  fifty  miles  below  Memphis.  They 
had  an  oldfashioned  energy  which  had  long  been  unfamiliar  to 
me.  This  third  storm  was  accompanied  by  a  strong  wind.  We 
tied  up  to  the  bank  when  we  saw  the  disturbance  coming,  and 
everybody  left  the  pilot-house  but  me.  The  wind  agitated  the 
young  trees,  exposing  the  pale  under  side  of  the  leaves;  and  gust 


100  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

after  gust  followed  in  quick  succession,  moving  the  branches 
violently  up  and  down,  and  to  this  side  and  that,  and  creating 
changes  of  green  and  white,  according  to  the  side  of  the  leaf  that 
was  exposed,  and  these  waves  followed  after  each  other  as  do  their 
kind  over  a  wind-tossed  field  of  oats.  .  .  .  The  river  was  leaden, 
all  distances  the  same;  and  even  the  numerous  ranks  of  white- 
caps  were  dully  shaded  by  the  color  of  the  air  through  which  their 
numerous  legions  were  seen.  The  thunder-peals  were  constant 
and  deafening;  .  .  .  The  lightning  came  as  often  as  the  thunder. 
.  .  .  The  rain  fell  very  heavily;  the  ear-splitting  thunder-peals 
were  heard  nearer  and  nearer;  the  wind  increased  in  fury  and  began 
to  remove  boughs  and  tree-tops  and  send  them  sailing  away  through 
space;  the  pilot-house  fell  to  rocking  and  otherwise  showing  the 
effect  of  the  wind,  and  I  went  down  into  the  hold  to  see  what  time 
it  was. — Mark  Twain  (adapted). 

Propriety. — The  following  list  contains  only  words 
which  experience  has  shown  that  college  freshmen  /re- 
quently  misuse.  They  should  be  looked  up  in  a  good  dic- 
tionary and  then  used  properly  in  sentences. 

Affect,  effect;  aggravate,  tease;  alternative;  among,  between; 
awfully;  balance,  remainder;  claim,  assert,  maintain;  demean, 
behave,  debase;  deadly,  deathly;  expect,  suppose;  fix,  repair, 
fasten;  healthy,  beautiful;  lend,  loan  (barbarism,  as  a  verb); 
liable,  likely;  mad,  angry;  most,  almost;  nice,  agreeable;  oral, 
verbal;  party,  person;  posted,  informed;  quite,  almost,  very; 
school,  college;   stop,  stay;   storm,  rain. 

Idiom. — The  following  list  of  idiomatic  expressions  is 
meant  only  to  suggest  to  the  student  the  possibility  of  mak- 
ing other  lists  of  such  expressions  for  his  own  profit  and 
amusement: 

anticipate  doing  anything  (not  anticipate  to  do). 
agree  with  (a  person),  agree  to  (a  plan), 
angry  with  (not  at). 
comply  with  (not  to). 
connect  with  (not  to). 


WORDS       ]  101 

different  from  (not  to,  or  than). 

dying  of  (not  with)  fever.  :        •  -  3 ..  | 

an  eye  to  anything. 

glad  of  (not  for) . 

in  order  to  do  (not  /or  £0  do). 

a  child  0/  ten  (or  of  ten  years). 

the  reason  is  (not  is  because). 

lay  waste  (not  te  waste). 

overlook  sl  fault  (not  Z00&  over). 

in  jail,  in  2/ie  penitentiary. 

to  get  ready. 

to  put  through  (a  plan),  put  by  (money),  to  be  put  out  (annoyed). 

to  take  offense,  take  heart,  take  care. 

to  pluck  up  courage. 


SECTION  V. 
Punctuation. 

56.  The  Object  of  Punctuation. — The  voice  in  speech 
rises  and  falls,  goes  on  rapidly  or  pauses.  In  written  com- 
position the  place  of  these  inflections  of  the  voice  is  sup- 
plied by  punctuation. 

Punctuation  has  a  double  value;  it  helps  to  make  the 
relation  of  ideas  clearer,  and  the  expression  of  these  ideas 
more  emphatic.    Consider  the  following  sentences: 

I  do  not  believe  it. 

I  ?    Do  not  believe  it ! 

He  drove  away  from  the  yard  and  crossed  the  creek  without, 
stopping  to  water  his  horses. 

He  drove  away  from  the  yard,  and  crossed  the  creek  without 
stopping  to  water  his  horses. 

Here  the  changes  in  punctuation  entirely  alter  the  sense. 
In  other  cases  its  effect  is  upon  emphasis. 

Go  home  if  you  want  to. 
Go  home — if  you  want  to. 
Go  home ! — if  you  want  to. 
Go  ?  Home,  if  you  want  to ! 

The  law  of  good  sense  in  punctuation  is  this:  Use  such 
symbols  as  mill  make  your  meaning  clear.  But  certain  rules 
for  the  use  of  various  marks  must  be  definitely  learned 
before  this  general  law  can  be  enforced. 

57.  The  Marks  of  Punctuation. — The  end  of  a  sentence 
is  marked  by  the  use  of  one  of  three  symbols: 

(1)   The  period  (.)  usually. 
102 


PUNCTUATION  103 

(2)  The  exclamation  point  (!)  if  the  sentence  is  exclama- 
tory. 

Down  with  him ! 

(3)  The  interrogation  point  (?)  if  the  sentence  is  a  ques- 
tion. 

Who  is  he? 

Divisions  of  thought  within  the  sentence  are  marked  by 
the  comma,  semicolon,  dash,  colon,  exclamation  point  and 
interrogation  point. 

The  comma  (,)  indicates  (1)  a  slight  break  in  the  gram- 
matical construction,  or  (2)  a  slight  pause  in  reading. 

(1)  The  sun  was  already  up,  John  already  at  work. 
Look  at  the  girl  on  the  right,  the  tall  one. 

Nobody  needs  practice  in  composition  more  than  the  business- 
man, unless  it  is  the  engineer. 

The  bench,  which  was  an  old  one,  gave  way  under  him. 

(2)  Hail,  Cgesar! 

A  long,  dull,  dusty,  tiresome  street  it  was. 
"Bring  it  here,"  she  demanded. 
He  was  furious;  she,  calm. 

The  modern  tendency  is  to  omit  commas  unless  they 
are  necessary  to  the  sense,  or  the  need  for  a  pause  in  read- 
ing is  obvious.  In  the  following  sentences  some  writers 
would  have  commas,  most  would  not: 

To  stand  by  his  country  in  her  time  of  need  is  every  man's 
privilege. 

They  sat  down  to  a  dinner  which  lasted  till  midnight. 

Whatever  he  says  I  will  agree  to. 

He  saw  that  he  could  be  of  no  further  service  and  so  turned 
sadly  and  walked  away. 

Seeing  that  he  could  be  of  no  further  service  he  turned  sadly 
and  walked  away. 


104  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

He  cried  "I  have  it  now !" 
A  tall  strong  lad  he  was. 

The  semicolon  (;)  indicates  a  greater  break  in  thought 
or  change  in  construction  than  the  comma. 

He  was  furious;  she  was  calm. 

Take  it  away;   I  do  not  like  it. 

It  was  spring;  the  sun  was  shining;  and  side  by  side  we  gal- 
loped  over  the  prairie. 

I  staggered  to  my  feet  again,  bruised  and  somewhat  stunned; 
the  negro  had  paused  in  surprise,  perhaps  in  terror,  some  half 
way  between  me  and  the  wreck;  my  uncle  was  already  far  away, 
bounding  from  rock  to  rock;  and  I  thus  found  myself  torn  for 
a  time  between  two  duties  (Stevenson). 

Note  that  the  semicolon,  standing  exactly  half  way  be- 
tween the  comma  and  the  period,  may  do  duty  now  for  the 
one  and  now  for  the  other.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the 
tendency  of  good  newspaper  writing  seems  to  be  to  do  with- 
out the  semicolon  almost  altogether,  using  the  comma  or 
the  period  instead. 

The  dash  ( — )  is  used  to  indicate  abrupt  changes  in 
thought  or  construction. 

I  might  tell  you — but  I  don't  choose  to. 

When  Shaw  was  coming  home — if  as  I  say  it  was  Shaw — he 
went  for  some  reason  round  by  the  Windward  Isles. 

Some  lady — Mrs.  Hamilton,  perhaps — had  known  him  before. 
When  she  saw  him  there  among  those  savages — well,  naturally 
she  was  astounded.    He — could  it  be? 

The  dash  is  an  emphatic,  almost  violent  substitute  for 
the  comma,  the  semicolon,  or  the  parenthesis.  Young 
writers  often  use  it  too  much,  as  they  use  italics  too  much, 
and  so  give  a  kind  of  hysterical  effect  to  their  style. 

The  colon  (:)  has  but  one  use,  a  use  all  its  own  and 


PUNCTUATION  105 

highly  important:   as  here,  it  points  forward  to  something 
which  is  to  come. 

I  had  one  invaluable  menu:   bread  and  water  for  breakfast, 
bread  and  water  for  luncheon,  bread  and  water  for  dinner. 
The  oft-repeated  name  fell  once  more  from  his  lips:  "  Aileen ! " 
I  wish  you  to  note  this  fact:   you  are  in  my  power. 

The  marks  of  exclamation  and  interrogation  are  the  only 
marks  of  punctuation  which  are  used  both  at  the  end  of 
sentences  and  within  sentences.  Their  intention  is  the 
same  in  any  case.  We  write  "  'Are  you  here?'  he  asked," 
or  "  'Never,  never!'  he  cried,"  because  the  question  and 
the  exclamation  end  before  the  sentence  does.    So  again: 

Hail,  Caesar !     We  salute  you. 

Shall  we  yield,  men?  or  shall  we  not  rather  defy  him? 

Besides  these,  there  are  other  symbols,  the  most  im- 
portant being  the  marks  of  quotation  ("  "  '  '),  the 
apostrophe  ('),  the  parenthesis  ( )  and  brackets  [  ]. 

Double  marks  of  quotation  are  used  to  point  out  the 
beginning  and  end  of  all  direct  quotation.  Single  marks 
indicate  the  beginning  and  end  of  a  quotation  within  a  quan- 
ta tion. 

"I  am,"  he  said. 

"Why  not?"  was  her  very  natural  question. 

"Well,"  replied  Alfred  thoughtfully,  "I  heard  him  say  'I  re- 
fuse/ and  I  supposed  he  knew  what  he  was  talking  about." 

"  'Silence  is  golden '  is  a  useful  proverb  sometimes,"  laughed 
the  broker. 

(It  is  unfortunate  that  in  England  exactly  the  opposite 
practice  prevails.) 

Observe  that  whenever  a  quotation  is  interrupted,  quo- 
tation marks  are  used  to  mark  the  interruption. 


106  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

"I?"  he  whispered.  "You  can't  mean  me?  Why" — he 
smiled  a  little  wistfully,  "they  used  to  call  me  'poor  old  Ned' 
even  there  in  Riverton."  He  smiled  again.  "No,  you  can't 
mean  me." 

This  usage  is  simple  good  sense.  The  reader  is  en- 
titled to  know  exactly  where  the  quotation  begins  and  ends : 
what  are  the  writer's  words,  what  he  has  borrowed  or  put 
into  the  mouth  of  a  character. 

The  apostrophe  is  used  to  indicate  the  possessive  case, 
or  omitted  letters. 

John's;  can't. 

The  parenthesis  is  used  to  enclose  explanatory  words, 
phrases  or  clauses  which  might  be  omitted  without  alter- 
ing the  grammatical  structure  of  the  sentence. 

She  (I  call  her  thus,  because  I  never  knew  her  name)  alone  in- 
spired me. 

His  efforts  were  not  appreciated  by  the  audience  (they  are  a 
stupid  set  in  Hazelville),  but  how  glorious  I  thought  him ! 

Note. — A  parenthesis  is  never  rightly  used  to  enclose  words 
which  the  writer  intends  to  be  omitted. 

Brackets  [  ]  are  used  to  enclose  any  editorial  additions 
to  manuscript. 

This  scheme  [the  Gladstone  plan]  was  outlined  in  1886. 

58.  Capitalization. — A  capital  is  invariably  used  for 
the  first  letter  of  the  first  word  of  every  (1)  sentence, 
(2)  line  of  poetry,  (3)  direct  quotation. 

All  proper  nouns — e.  g.,  John,  August,  Germany — and 
many  proper  adjectives — e.  g.,  French,  Baptist,  Republican 
— begin  with  a  capital.  Usage  is,  however,  not  uniform, 
and  each  doubtful  case  must  be  looked  up. 


PUNCTUATION  107 

59.  Italicization. — Italics  are  used  to  emphasize  par- 
ticular words  or  phrases.  But  their  use  grows  on  a  writer: 
soon  he  employs  them  so  constantly  that  their  whole  effect 
is  lost.  Like  slang,  they  are  sometimes  valuable,  but  on 
the  whole  better  left  out  of  your  writing  altogether. 


PART  II. 
THE  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

60.  Introductory. — All  writing  may  be  for  convenience 
divided  into  four  classes,  called,  respectively,  Exposition, 
Argumentation,  Description,  and  Narration. 

The  object  of  exposition  is  to  explain,  and  its  appeal 
is  to  the  intellect. 

The  object  of  argumentation  is  to  convince,  and  its  ap- 
peal is  likewise  to  the  intellect. 

The  object  of  description  is  to  present  or  suggest  ma- 
terial things,  and  its  appeal  is  to  the  imagination  through 
the  senses. 

Hie  object  of  narration  is  to  record  incidents,  and  its 
appeal  is  to  the  imagination  through  the  emotions. 

In  other  words,  exposition  explains,  argumentation  per- 
suades, and  the  prime  object  of  both  is  to  be  clear;  de- 
scription deals  with  things,  narration  with  events,  and 
the  prime  object  of  both  is  to  be  interesting. 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  this  classification  is  merely 
for  convenience  of  study.  A  writer  seldom  deliberately  sets 
himself  to  write  an  exposition,  an  argument,  a  description, 
a  narration,  as  such.  He  has  something  to  say,  and  says 
it.  We,  reviewing  his  work,  perceive  that  what  he  has 
written  is  chiefly  expository,  or  chiefly  narrative.  We  may 
find,  we  often  do  find,  that  such  and  such  paragraphs 
are  of  one  sort  of  writing,  such  and  such  paragraphs  of 
another.     We  may  even  find  examples  of  all  four  kinds 

109 


110  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

in  a  single  paragraph.  The  novelist  argues,  explains, 
describes;  the  writer  of  text-books  whose  object  is  almost 
wholly  explanatory,  narrates  and  argues  by  the  way. 
But,  for  convenience  of  study,  as  has  just  been  said,  it  is 
nevertheless  possible  and  desirable  to  separate  and  con- 
sider separately  these  four  forms. 


SECTION  VI. 

Exposition. 

Of  these  four  forms  of  writing  the  most  important,  the 
basic  form,  is  exposition — writing  which  explains. 

61.  The  Material  of  Exposition. — Exposition  deals 
with  ideas,  not  with  things;  with  the  general,  not  with 
the  particular.  You  can  explain  the  principle  of  the  steam- 
engine,  without  reference  to  any  engine  in  particular;  or 
kindness,  without  thinking  of  any  one  person;  or  the  for- 
mation of  glaciers,  without  having  in  mind  any  individual 
glacier.  A  word  expressive  of  a  general  idea  is  called  a 
term.    It  is  the  business  of  exposition  to  make  terms  clear. 

62.  Exposition  in  Relation  to  Description  and  Nar- 
ration.— To  understand  any  term,  as  steam-engine  or  cloud, 
we  must  often,  however,  have  an  image  of  some  representa- 
tive of  that  term — of  some  particular  steam-engine  or  some 
particular  cloud.  Here  description  aids  exposition;  here, 
indeed,  it  is  difficult  to  draw  the  line  between  them.  If 
you  wish  a  friend  to  understand  how  clouds  are  formed, 
you  will  very  likely  describe  to  him  some  particular  cloud, 
and,  using  it  as  an  illustration,  lead  him  on  to  the  com- 
prehension of  clouds  in  general.  If  you  wish  to  tell  what 
you  understand  by  goodness,  you  may  describe  some  one 
of  your  acquaintance  who  is  good,  and  generalize  from  him. 
That  is  the  function  of  the  exposition — to  generalize.  No 
two  clouds  are  alike,  but  all  clouds  have  points  in  common. 
Description  emphasizes  the  individuality  of  each  cloud; 
exposition  deals  only  with  the  points  they  have  in  common. 

Ill 


112  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

As  exposition  utilizes  description,  so  also  it  may  utilize 
narration.  "How  to  Build  a  Boat"  is  plainly  exposition; 
change  the  title  to  "How  I  Built  a  Boat"  and  your  article 
will  become  narrative  in  form,  a  record  of  events,  but  in 
effect  will  be  as  much  exposition  as  ever.  Any  process 
may  be  thus  explained.  A  very  large  part  of  the  so-called 
" special  articles,"  "fact-stories"  in  magazines  and  news- 
papers, are  expositions  of  this  type.  We  are  made  to 
understand  wireless  telegraphy  by  an  account  of  the  ex- 
periences of  a  correspondent  in  a  wireless-telegraph  sta- 
tion; or  the  United  States  system  of  army  maneuvers,  by 
the  story  of  a  day  on  the  sham  battlefield;  or  how  irri- 
gation is  carried  on  in  Colorado,  by  the  history  of  one 
company.  Historical  writing  is  very  largely  of  this  type 
— narrative  in  form,  but  expository  in  its  intention. 

63.  Definition. — Theoretically,  pure  exposition  pro- 
ceeds by  definition.  That  is  to  say,  it  places  the  particu- 
lar term  under  discussion  in  the  class  to  which  it  belongs, 
and  relates  it  to  the  other  members  of  that  class. 

Tennis  is  a  game  in  which  a  ball  is  kept  in  motion  by  striking 
it  with  a  racquet. 

Here  the  term  tennis  is  placed  in  the  class  game  and  re- 
lated to  the  other  members  of  that  class  by  the  addition 
of  the  details  in  which  a  ball  is  kept  in  motion  by  striking 
it  with  a  racquet. 

64.  The  Process  of  Exposition. — But  a  definition  is 
as  a  rule  only  the  beginning  of  exposition.  The  terms 
of  the  definition  must  in  turn  be  defined.  Exposition, 
moreover,  deals  most  often  not  with  a  single  term,  but 
with  a  combination  of  terms;  not  with  an  idea,  but  with  a 
situation.  Practically,  then,  in  exposition,  how  shall  we 
proceed  ? 


EXPOSITION  113 

The  process  of  exposition  briefly  stated  is  this :  Set  forth 
the  factors  of  the  term,  or  of  the  situation,  and  then  amplify 
by  details. 

The  term  factor,  in  mathematics,  is  well  understood. 
Six  and  five  are  factors  of  thirty;  multiplied  together,  they 
produce  thirty.  By  analogy,  the  factors  of  a  situation  are 
the  causes  which  produce  it. 

Suppose,  as  an  expert  engineer,  you  are  sent  out  to  re- 
port on  the  condition  of  a  region  in  which  some  one  hopes 
to  engage  in  iron-mining.  You  are  familiar  with  the  ne- 
cessities of  the  business;  in  other  words,  you  understand 
the  factors  of  iron-mining.  You  examine  the  region  in 
the  light  of  these  factors  one  by  one — the  quality  of  the 
ore,  its  accessibility,  facilities  for  reduction,  facilities  for 
transportation — and  you  amplify  your  conclusion  in  your 
report,  by  giving  in  connection  with  each  topic  every 
important  detail  which  bears  on  it.  That  is  exposition. 
Your  employers  wish  to  understand  the  region;  you  ex- 
plain it. 

Take  an  even  simpler  example.  You  wish  to  make 
plain  to  your  friends  at  home  just  why  your  college  foot- 
ball team  lost  its  most  important  game.  The  loss  was  due, 
you  think,  to  three  things:  a  small  squad  of  players,  hard 
fate  in  accidents,  and  the  lack  of  a  settled  policy  through- 
out the  season.  These  are  the  factors  of  the  situation. 
You  amplify  the  first  by  telling  how  many  players  there 
were  compared  with  the  number  in  previous  years  and  the 
number  at  other  colleges.  You  amplify  the  second  by 
reciting  the  list  of  accidents,  great  and  small.  You  am- 
plify the  third  by  showing  in  detail  what  the  policy  was 
first,  and  then  in  detail  how  it  was  changed.  At  the 
end  of  your  letter  your  friend  understands;  you  have  ex- 
plained. 

Sound  exposition  depends,   therefore,  on  two  things; 


114  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

(1)  Ability  to  discover  the  underlying  factors  of  the 
situation. 

(2)  The  inclusion  of  plenty  of  amplifying  details. 
The  first,  no  text-book  on  composition  can  assist  you  in. 

Power  to  think  things  out — that,  which  is  the  supreme 
test  of  intellect,  you  must  get  for  yourself.  If  you  do 
not,  you  can  never  explain  anything.  But  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  amplifying  detail  may  be  discussed  to  ad- 
vantage. 

65.  Details  in  Exposition. — You  can  amplify  your 
topic  by  using  details  of  three  kinds:  (1)  details  which 
show  what  your  subject  is;  (2)  details  which  show  what 
your  subject  is  not;  (3)  details  which  show  what  your 
subject  is  like  and  unlike. 

Suppose  you  are  explaining  the  term  "  gentleman/ ' 
What  is  a  gentleman?  He  is  kind,  he  is  honest;  Sir 
Roger  de  Coverley  was  a  gentleman.  On  the  other  hand, 
what  is  he  not?  He  is  not  self-conscious;  he  is  not  neces- 
sarily competent — Twemlow,  in  Our  Mutual  Friend,  was 
a  gentleman.  He  is  not  necessarily  well-dressed.  Finally, 
what  is  he  like  or  unlike?  He  is  simple  and  direct  in  his 
manners,  like  a  child;  but,  unlike  a  child,  he  is  thoughtful 
for  others. 

Again,  revert  to  the  question  of  the  iron  mines  just  re- 
ferred to.  (1)  What  does  the  ore  you  have  been  sent 
to  examine,  contain?  (2)  What  does  it  not  contain? 
(3)  What  ore  is  it  like? 

Once  more:  Your  football  squad  this  season  is  very 
unsatisfactory.  (1)  It  numbers  only  eighteen  men.  Only 
five  have  played  as  much  as  two  years.  Only  four  weigh 
more  than  170  pounds.  (2)  It  has  no  fast  runners — not 
a  man  can  cover  a  hundred  yards  in  less  than  eleven  sec- 
onds. It  has  no  steady  or  experienced  candidates  for 
quarter-back.    It  has  no  natural  leaders.     (3)  Compared 


EXPOSITION  115 

with  So-and-So  College,  it  is  ridiculous  in  size.  It  is  only 
half  as  large  as  the  squad  at  Such-and-Such,  although  the 
colleges  are  of  equal  attendance.  It  is  not  nearly  so  large 
as  your  own  squad  of  last  year. 

A  final  example:  What  was  the  character  of  Abraham 
Lincoln  ?  (1)  He  was  a  man  of  the  people;  he  was  far- 
seeing;  he  was  patient;  he  was  affectionate.  (2)  He  was 
not  a  widely  read  man;  not  careful  in  ordinary  speech; 
not  energetic;  not  systematic.  (3)  He  was  quite  unlike 
the  leaders  of  other  nations,  even  of  the  same  period. 
In  his  democracy,  his  accessibility,  he  was  like  Garibaldi; 
but  in  nothing  else.  In  his  point  of  view  he  resembled 
perhaps  another  Italian,  Mazzini,  as  much  as  anyone. 
He  bore  little  resemblance  to  Washington;  less  still  to 
Webster,  though  their  early  training  was  not  widely 
different. 

66.  The  Importance  of  Examples. — These  cases  ali 
concern  one  point:  the  kind  of  amplifying  details  possi- 
ble. All  such  details  are  made  definite  and  easily  com- 
prehensible by  examples  and  illustrations.  Few  people 
are  comfortable  when  dealing  with  abstract  matters. 
What  do  you  mean,  your  friend  asks  you,  by  arrogant? 
by  snobbish?  You  explain  in  general  terms,  and  he  re- 
plies impatiently,  "Oh,  give  me  an  example."  You 
recite  on  the  "conventional  phrasing"  of  eighteenth- 
century  poetry.  "Give  me  an  example  of  it,"  says  the 
instructor.  "Give  me  another,  and  another."  A  geolo- 
gist discusses  the  rate  of  progress  of  glaciers,  and  cites 
instance  after  instance  of  glaciers  all  over  the  world. 
Huxley,  Matthew  Arnold,  Stevenson,  Macaulay,  William 
James,  every  writer  who  is  remarkable  for  clearness 
invariably  depends  on  examples  to  bring  out  his  meaning. 
Young  writers  often  think,  "I  have  made  a  general  state- 
ment and  given  an  example;  what  more  could  be  asked ?,! 


116  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Another  example,  and  still  another;  if  the  general  state* 
ment  is  at  all  obscure,  even  if  it  is  likely  to  be  new  to  the 
reader,  give  examples  in  plenty. 

67.  Order  in  Exposition. — Concerning  the  general  ar- 
rangement of  material  in  exposition,  not  much  need  be 
added  to  what  was  said  in  the  chapter  on  the  composition 
as  a  whole  (q.  v.) .  The  order  of  time,  or  space,  or  impor- 
tance, or  complexity,  or  any  other  logical  order  suited  to  the 
topic,  must  be  determined  by  the  writer.  But  a  word  or 
two  on  the  special  problems  of  the  organization  of  expo- 
sition may  be  said. 

(1)  Before  you  write  your  exposition,  make  a  brief 
summary  which  shall  include  (a)  the  general  statement  of 
what  you  mean  to  explain  and  (b)  in  a  sentence  each,  the 
divisions  of  this  explanation  in  the  order  in  which  you 
mean  to  consider  them.  Write  this  summary  out  in 
a  complete  paragraph;  do  not  put  it  into  your  exposition, 
but  use  it  as  a  guide  for  yourself.  Such  a  preliminary  sum- 
mary forces  you  to  think  out  your  plan  beforehand.  It 
is  better  in  one  way  than  a  topical  outline,  because  it  is 
more  definite. 

(2)  Remember  that  your  exposition  is  a  constant  series 
*f  repetitions  of  one  process — the  statement  of  a  general 

truth,  and  its  amplification  by  detail.  However  large  your 
main  topic— "  Geology,"  "The  History  of  England/'  "An- 
cient Religions" — however  finely  you  subdivide,  you 
come  down  always  from  general  truth  to  general  truth, 
amplifying  by  detail  as  you  go.  Every  paragraph,  there- 
fore, or  at  least  every  small  group  of  paragraphs,  consists 
simply  of  a  statement  and  its  development.  The  normal 
order  is  the  statement  first,  then  its  development.  When 
this  becomes  mechanical,  vary  the  form  by  letting  your 
explanation  and  examples  lead  up  to  the  statement  at  the 
end* 


EXPOSITION  117 

*'The  greatness  of  Lear  is  not  in  corporal  dimension,  but  in 
intellectual;  the  explosions  of  his  passion  are  terrible  as  a  volcano; 
they  are  storms  turning  up  and  disclosing  to  the  bottom  that 
sea,  his  mind,  with  all  its  vast  riches.  It  is  his  mind  which  is 
laid  bare.  This  case  of  flesh  and  blood  seems  too  insignificant 
to  be  thought  on;  even  as  he  himself  neglects  it.  On  the  stage 
we  see  nothing  but  corporal  infirmities  or  weaknesses,  the  im- 
potence of  rage;  while  we  read  it,  we  see  not  Lear,  but  we  are 
Lear.  .  .  .  Lear  is  essentially  impossible  to  be  represented  on  a 
stage." — Lamb. 

Here  the  general  statement  of  the  impossibility  of  ad- 
equately presenting  Lear  on  the  stage,  is  led  up  to.  But 
the  normal  order  is  the  wiser  in  most  cases. 

68.  Interest  in  Exposition. — Because  the  material  of 
exposition  is  fact  and  opinion,  and  its  appeal  is  to  the 
intellect,  it  need  not,  therefore,  be  cold  and  uninteresting. 
Written  twenty  years  ago,  Professor  Barrett  Wendell's 
English  Composition  still  remains  the  most  effective  state- 
ment of  the  theory  of  the  subject;  and  this  not  more  on 
account  of  the  clearness  of  its  arrangement  and  the  cor- 
rectness of  its  conclusions  than  because  of  the  agreeability 
of  its  style.  "Be  clear"  does  not  mean  "Be  dull."  Turns 
of  phrase,  vividness  of  specification,  are  as  much  in  place 
in  exposition  as  in  description  or  narration.  For  verifi- 
cation of  this  statement,  read  the  work  of  those  masters 
of  skilful  exposition,  the  best  of  our  modern  writers  of 
advertising. 

Exercises. 

Define  the  following  terms,  and  amplify  each  definition 
in  a  paragraph: 

Study,  slang,  loafing,  water,  motor-cycle,  gingham,  college- 
spirit,  politeness,  love,  wind,  meanness,  yellow. 


118  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Explain  by  general  narration: 

1.  Fraternity  initiation. 

2.  Bird-study  with  an  opera-glass. 

3.  Why  I  came  to  college. 

4.  Tackling  the  "  dummy." 

5.  The  formation  of  glaciers. 

State  briefly  the  factors  of  each  of  the  following  of  whicu 
you  have  definite  knowledge: 

1.  The  "serve"  in  tennis. 

2.  How  to  build  a  fire  in  the  woods. 

3.  Wordsworth's  theory  of  poetical  diction. 

4.  College  honesty. 

5.  The  character  of  Lady  Macbeth. 

6.  Why  I  came  to  college. 

7.  The  best  way  of  studying  French. 

8.  A  friend  of  mine. 

9.  Carlyle's  idea  of  "The  Hero." 

10.  Trapping  rabbits. 

11.  Bird-study  with  an  opera-glass. 

12.  The  training  of  a  nobleman's  son  in  feudal  times. 

13.  My  idea  of  socialism. 

14.  Work  at  a  college  settlement. 

15.  Carburetors. 

Amplify  in  the  number  of  paragraphs  suggested  in  each 
case,  one  of  the  following: 

1.  First  base  play. 

(1)  Handling  thrown  balls. 

(2)  Handling  batted  balls. 

(3)  Team-play  with  pitcher,  catcher,  and  second  baseman, 

2.  Dormitory  life  for  girls. 

(1)  The  physical  side — eating,  sleeping,  and  exercise. 

(2)  The  social  side — getting  acquainted. 

(3)  The  social  side — advantages  and  disadvantages. 

(4)  The  financial  side — expense. 


EXPOSITION  119 

3.  Doing  a  term  paper. 

(1)  Getting  a  subject. 

(2)  Working  up  material — in  class. 

(3)  Working  up  material — outside  reading. 

(4)  Writing  the  paper — methods  of  saving  time. 

(5)  General  comment  on  the  value  of  term  papers  com- 

pared to  examinations. 

4.  Life  in  a  small  town. 

(1)  The  character  of  the  people. 

(2)  Education  in  a  small  town. 

(3)  The  social  life. 

(4)  The  changes  of  time, 

5.  The  development  of  my  chief  interest-. 

(1)  How  I  acquired  it. 

(2)  How  it  grew. 

(3)  Its  advantages  and  disadvantages- 

Note. — The  foregoing  divisions  into  paragraphs  are  in  every 
case,  of  course,  purely  arbitrary.  (See  page  34.)  The  writer 
might  factor  again  each  subtopic:  he  might,  for  instance,  in  ex- 
ample (5)  include  in  one  paragraph  (1)  Iiow  I  acquired  it  and 
(2)  how  it  grew,  and  divide  (3)  its  advantages  and  disadvantages 
into  two  or  three  or  half  a  dozen,  according  to  its  complication. 

The  following  is  a  summary,  sentence  by  sentence,  of 
the  successive  paragraphs  of  John  Burroughs's  "The  Art 
of  Seeing  Things": 

(1)  Some  people  are  only  half  alive  to  what  is  going 
on  around  them;  others  again  are  keenly  alive.  (2)  We 
may  see  coarsely  and  vaguely,  as  most  people  do,  or  we 
may  see  finely  and  discriminately.  (3)  To  find  what  you 
are  not  looking  for,  to  have  a  detective  eye  that  reads  the 
faintest  signs — that  is  to  be  an  observer.  (4)  Sleight-of- 
hand  succeeds  only  because  it  deceives  the  ordinary  eye. 
(5)  The  observation  of  natural  objects  is  difficult  because 
the  background  **uds  to  conceal  rather  than  expose      ftO 


120  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

I  call  a  close  observer,  then,  a  man  who  notes  the  individ- 
ual feature  of  tree  and  rock  and  beast  and  bird,  and  allows 
no  subtle  flavor  of  the  night  or  day,  of  the  place  and  the 
season,  to  escape  him. 

Could  you,  having  knowledge  of  the  subject,  develop 
anything  like  the  original  from  this  outline?  Make  a 
similar  summary  of  a  paper  you  might  write  on  one  of  the 
following: 

1.  Farm  life  in  winter. 

2.  The  differences  between  high  school  and  college  life. 

3.  Organizing  a  high  school  debate. 

4.  Scientific  loafing. 

5.  Motor-cycling. 

6.  The  organization  of  a  lumber  camp  (or  any  of  the  suIk 
jeets  suggested  on  page  118). 


section  vn. 

Argumentation. 

69.  Argumentation  Defined. — Argumentation  is  the 
kind  of  composition  which  seeks  to  convince.  It  is  thus 
directly  based  on  exposition.  Before  you  can  convince  any- 
one, you  must  make  him  understand  the  situation;  that 
is  to  say,  before  you  can  argue,  you  must  explain. 

Indeed,  pure  exposition  is  in  its  effect  often  the  best 
kind  of  argument.  You  present  the  case  clearly,  and 
without  further  delay  the  reader  will  often  come  to  the 
conclusion  you  wish  him  to  reach. 

But  for  purposes  of  analysis  we  must  go  further.  Ex- 
position may  not  have  anything  to  do  with  the  effort  of 
convincing.  You  can  explain  the  workings  of  the  steam 
engine  without  a  thought  of  attempting  to  prove  anything 
to  anyone.  Your  discussion  of  how  to  build  a  boat  will 
not  involve  argument.  Indeed,  there  are  many  subjects 
from  which  argument  should  be  rigidly  excluded,  or  upon 
which  it  could  not  be  founded.  A  text-book  does  not  often 
argue;  the  statement  of  a  problem  in  geometry  does  not 
argue. 

Argument,  it  will  be  noticed,  is  not  possible  until  some 
statement  has  been  made.  You  can  explain,  but  you  can- 
not argue,  a  term — "Tennis,"  for  instance,  or  "Canada/' 
or  "Municipal  Ownership,"  or  "English  Composition." 
But  the  moment  a  statement  is  made  about  this  term,  the 
possibility  of  argument  begins.  "Tennis  is  bad  for  girls" ; 
"Canada  does  not  favor  reciprocity";  "Municipal  Owner- 


122  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

ship  is  a  long  step  toward  Socialism";  "English  Composi- 
tion is  an  art" — these  are  all  theoretically  arguable. 

70.  The  Basis  of  Argument — Fact  and  Inference. — 
Argument  is  based  upon  two  things :  facts  and  inferences. 
Facts  are  concrete  things,  inferences  are  the  conclusions 
drawn  from  them. 

That  George  Washington  is  dead  is  a  fact;  that  all  men 
must  die  is  an  inference,  drawn  from  many  facts.  That 
Cornell  is  almost  always  successful  in  her  boat-races  is  a 
fact;  that  her  coaching-system  is  admirable  is  an  infer- 
ence drawn  by  everyone  interested.  That  Mr.  Bryan 
advocated  free-silver  is  a  fact;  that  he  subsequently  de- 
clared himself  to  be  mistaken  is  a  fact;  but  that  he  was 
mistaken  is  an  inference  only.  That  women  in  most  States 
do  not  vote  is  a  fact;  that  they  vote  in  Colorado  is  a  fact; 
that  they  as  a  rule  wish  to  vote,  either  there  or  elsewhere, 
is  an  inference. 

Fact  is  a  matter  wholly  of  evidence.  There  may  of 
course  be  denial  of  that  which  is  stated  as  a  fact.  You 
say  "Smith  is  six  feet  tall,"  and  your  friend  says  "He  is 
only  five  feet  eleven  inches."  That  is  called  an  issue  of 
fact  One  of  you  is  demonstrably  wrong.  The  evidence 
will  show  which. 

71.  Proof. — The  combination  of  facts  and  inferences 
upon  which  you  rest  any  assertion  is  called  the  proof  of 
that  assertion.  It  should  be  noted  that,  from  one  point 
of  view,  simple  exposition  may  be  the  most  effective  kind 
of  proof.  A  salesman  shows  his  prospective  customers 
what  his  typewriting  machine  or  his  dynamite  can  do; 
the  customer  makes  his  own  inferences,  and  buys  the 
goods.  You  are  arguing  that  immigration  should  not  be 
restricted.  A  dispassionate  statement  of  the  situation  as 
it  exists  to-day,  the  character  of  the  immigrants,  the  need 
of  the  country  for  workmen,  may  be  your  best  method  of 


ARGUMENTATION  123 

procedure.  You  wish  to  convince  the  authorities  that 
the  honor  system  in  examinations  should  be  adopted;  an 
explanation  of  exactly  what  the  honor  system  is  may  go 
far  toward  securing  your  end.  At  all  events,  never  for- 
get that  without  clear  exposition  no  argument  ever  gets 
anywhere. 

Technically,  however,  proof  is  the  process  by  which 
you  develop  the  truth  of  your  statements.  Complete  proof 
is  only  theoretically  obtainable.  A  mathematician  can 
prove,  in  this  complete  sense,  that  a  straight  line  is  the 
shortest  distance  between  two  points;  the  astronomer  may 
be  said  to  have  proved  that  the  earth  revolves  about  the 
sun.  But  ordinarily  proof  is  a  comparative  term.  You 
advance  so  much  evidence;  so  much,  on  the  other  hand, 
is  advanced  by  those  who  do  not  agree  with  you;  and  the 
argument  is  temporarily  won  by  him  whose  evidence  is 
the  more  conclusive.  Lincoln,  according  to  an  old  story, 
once  won  a  case  in  court  on  the  evidence  of  thirty  men  and 
two  horses,  against  the  evidence  of  thirty-four  men.  The 
jury  believed  the  evidence  of  the  two  horses  to  outweigh 
that  of  the  four  men. 

Your  evidence  may  bear  directly  or  indirectly  upon  your 
main  contention.  Most  of  it  will  bear  indirectly.  In 
support  of  your  main  contention  you  present  certain  state- 
ments; in  support  of  those,  in  turn,  certain  other  state- 
ments;  and  so  on.  You  shore  up  with  evidence  these  sup- 
porting statements,  and  so  make  your  main  assertion 
firm. 

72.  The  Kinds  of  Evidence. — Evidence  is  of  two  sorts, 
personal  and  circumstantial.  Personal  evidence  is  the 
testimony  of  persons;  circumstantial  evidence  is  the  tes 
timony  of  things.  They  may  support  or  they  may  con- 
tradict each  other.  But  they  need  to  be  considered  sepa- 
rately. 


124  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

73.  Personal  Evidence  and  Its  Value. — Personal  evi- 
dence, in  a  court  of  law,  is  the  testimony  of  a  witness.  Its 
value  depends  on  various  factors. 

(1)  Is  the  witness  of  good  character? 

(2)  Is  he  competent  to  testify  in  the  particular  case 
under  discussion? 

(3)  Is  he  unprejudiced? 

The  Character  of  the  Witness. — A  man  who  has  lied 
once  is  likely  to  lie  again.  Therefore  the  testimony  of 
a  witness  whose  character  is  not  above  reproach  is  less 
valuable,  other  things  being  equal,  than  the  testimony  of 
a  witness  of  unblemished  reputation. 

The  Competence  of  the  Witness. — Powers  of  observa- 
tion and  powers  of  judgment  differ  widely  in  different 
persons.  Testimony  concerning  an  accident,  from  a  per- 
son obviously  short-sighted,  would  be  weakened  of  its 
effect.  The  testimony  of  a  grown  man  would  have  more 
weight  than  the  testimony  of  a  boy,  because  presumably 
the  man's  judgment  would  be  sounder.  The  testimony 
of  a  botanist  concerning  the  color  of  a  flower  would  be 
given  credence  over  the  testimony  of  another  person,  be- 
cause the  botanist  would  be  competent  in  his  observation 
of  flowers.  On  the  other  hand,  when  it  came  to  identify- 
ing a  horse,  the  botanist's  testimony  might  be  of  much 
less  value  than  a  jockey's. 

The  Prejudice  of  the  Witness. — Finally,  the  relation  of 
the  witness  to  the  subject  of  his  testimony  is  of  vital  im- 
portance. A  wife  in  some  courts  may  not  testify  against 
her  husband,  charged  with  murder,  even  though  she  saw 
the  crime;  because  she  is  presumed  to  be  so  prejudiced 
in  favor  of  her  husband  that  she  cannot  tell  the  exact 
truth.  A  man  who  has  spent  his  life  teaching  Greek 
classics  to  boys,  may  testify  that  the  study  of  Greek  does 
more  for  a  boy  than  a  study  of  geology ;  but  the  geologist 


ARGUMENTATION  125 

would  reply  that  the  testimony  was  of  little  value,  for  the 
teacher  of  Greek  was  prejudiced.  A  good  man  who  owns 
a  dog  may  testify  that  the  dog  is  always  kind  and  gentle, 
and  yet  be  disbelieved.  As  soon  as  the  element  of  ad- 
vantage to  the  witness  enters  the  case,  the  value  of  his 
testimony  lessens. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  value  of  testimony  increases  if 
it  is  seen  to  be  to  the  witnesses'  disadvantage.  If  a  man- 
ufacturer of  safety  razors  testified  that  they  were  dis- 
agreeable to  shave  with,  his  word  would  probably  be 
accepted.  If  a  boy  is  accused  of  cheating  in  class,  and 
another  boy  who  is  a  member  of  the  same  fraternity  says 
Yes,  he  saw  the  cheating  going  on,  the  testimony  will 
probably  be  conclusive;  unless  indeed  it  could  be  shown 
that  though  in  the  same  fraternity  the  two  were  per- 
sonally at  odds.  If  a  careful  writer  on  natural  history 
states  that  animals  reason,  and  subsequently  declares  he 
was  wrong,  that  in  five  years  of  subseo^ent  cautious  ex- 
periment he  has  never  found  a  case  of  obvious  animal  rea- 
soning, his  testimony  will  be  thought  very  strong. 

The  value  of  any  personal  testimony,  therefore,  must  be 
determined  by  these  three  tests  in  combination — (1)  Is 
it  honest?  (2)  Is  it  competent?  (3)  Is  it  unpreju- 
diced? 

But  you  are  writing  arguments;  you  are  not  in  a  court 
of  law.  How,  then,  are  you  affected?  Obviously,  your 
own  personal  testimony  is  seldom  sufficient  to  prove  what- 
ever you  assert.  You  may  be  honest  and  even  competent, 
but  you  are  not  unprejudiced.  Your  assertions  may  have 
some  weight;  certainly,  if  the  subject  is  one  with  which 
you  are  really  competent  to  deal,  you  ought  to  present 
your  own  opinions.  But  the  bulk  of  your  personal  evi- 
dence will  be  made  up  of  the  testimony  of  others.  Where 
shall  you  seek  this  ?    Largely  in  print. 


126  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

71.  The  Evidence  of  Authority. — The  evidence  of 
authority,  i.  e.,  of  those  who  have  expressed  themselves 
upon  the  statement  under  discussion,  is  only  a  branch  of 
personal  evidence.  It  is  subject  to  exactly  the  same  tests 
for  value.  Young  writers  forget  this.  They  quote  an 
anonymous  newspaper  editorial,  a  cheap  magazine  arti* 
cle,  the  book  of  a  discredited  and  out-of-date  historian,  as 
complacently  as  if  in  so  doing  they  were  really  offering 
proof.  Is  your  authority  honest?  is  he  competent?  is 
he  unprejudiced  ?  These  are  the  questions  which  must  be 
answered  affirmatively  if  his  evidence  is  to  be  of  value. 
Nor  is  it  sufficient  that  you  know  him  to  be  all  three. 
Your  reader  must  be  made  to  recognize  the  fact.  A 
statement  concerning  the  chronology  of  Shakespeare's 
plays,  if  it  came  from  Sir  Sidney  Lee,  should  have  weight. 
But  if  you  cite  Sir  Sidney  Lee,  to  an  audience  not  well 
acquainted  with  literary  criticism,  you  must  tell  who  he 
is  and  why  he  is  an  authority,  or  your  citation  may  fail  of 
its  effect.  Even  the  vehicle  which  conveys  the  evidence  of 
authority  must  be  examined.  You  could  not,  for  instance, 
safely  cite  any  statement  attributed  to  a  scientific  man  by 
a  daily  newspaper. 

75.  Circumstantial  Evidence  and  Its  Value. — Per- 
sons  testify,  but  things  may  testify  also.  A  clean  chin 
with  a  cut  on  it  is  good  evidence  that  a  man  has  re 
cently  shaved.  If  a  shower  of  water  falls  on  your  head, 
and  looking  up  you  see  in  the  third-story  window  a  grin- 
ning boy  with  a  bucket,  you  attribute  your  mishap  to 
him*  Circumstantial  evidence  is  at  the  bottom  of  most  if 
not  all  of  Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle's  admirable  detective 
stories. 

The  value  of  circumstantial  evidence  increases  rapidly 
as  the  number  of  circumstances  all  pointing  to  the  same 
inference  increases.     If  a  window  beside  which  you  hap- 


ARGUMENTATION  127 

pen  to  be  sitting  is  suddenly  broken  from  without,  and 
looking  out  you  see  a  small  boy  running  away,  you  have 
some  ground  for  supposing  that  he  broke  your  window. 
If,  as  he  runs,  you  see  him  throw  a  stone  at  a  window 
across  the  street,  the  probability  that  he  broke  your  win- 
dow increases  immensely.  If  you  catch  him  and  find  in  his 
pocket  three  or  four  pieces  of  rock,  of  precisely  the  kind 
that  came  through  your  window,  and  if  upon  further 
examination  you  discover  that  no  other  rock  of  that  pecu- 
liar sort  is  to  be  found  anywhere  near — you  are  likely  to 
regard  the  evidence  as  conclusive*  So  in  the  experimen- 
tation of  scientists.  One  experiment  leads  to  a  certain 
inference.  But  a  dozen  experiments  of  different  sorts 
which  all  confirm  the  same  theory  are  much  more  than 
twelve  times  as  convincing.  Sherlock  Holmes,  in  "The 
Adventure  of  the  Three  Students/'  has  to  decide  which 
of  the  three  copied  the  questions  of  a  printed  examination 
from  the  preliminary  proofs.  A  window  through  which 
the  proofs  could  have  been  seen  on  a  table  is  so  high  that 
only  a  tall  man  could  have  looked  through  it.  Chips  from 
a  freshly  sharpened  lead  pencil  of  a  peculiar  make  and 
bits  of  clay  of  an  unusual  sort  are  found  in  the  room  with 
the  scattered  proofs.  One  of  the  students  is  over  six  feet 
in  height;  he  is  a  broad- jumper,  and  the  clay  is  of  a  kind 
to  be  found  nowhere  in  that  neighborhood  except  in  the 
jumping  pits:  and  a  pencil  of  the  kind  to  which  the 
chips  belonged  is  discovered  in  his  room*  The  three 
pieces  of  evidence,  taken  together,  are  convincing. 

Just  as  circumstantial  evidence  grows  tremendously  in 
value  as  it  becomes  cumulative,  so  it  decreases  in  value 
when  it  is  self-contradictory.  After  your  window  has  been 
broken  and  you  have  seen  the  small  boy  outside  throw- 
ing at  another  window,  you  suppose  him  to  be  the  culprit. 
But,  if  when  you  have  dragged  him  back  by  the  ear,  yaii 


i2S  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

discover  from  the  shape  of  the  break  in  your  window  pane 
that  it  must  have  been  made  by  a  bullet,  what  conclusion 
shall  you  come  to  ?  If  the  broad-jumper  had  been  a  lit- 
tle man  Sherlock  Holmes  would  have  been  at  fault.  If 
among  the  scientists'  dozen  experiments  a  single  one  con- 
tradicts the  other  eleven,  the  evidence  of  the  whole  dozen 
is  shaken. 

76.  The  Relation  of  Personal  Evidence  and  Circum- 
stantial Evidence. — Personal  evidence  and  circumstan- 
tial evidence  may  support  or  contradict  one  another. 
Your  conclusion  depends  on  the  value  you  attach  to 
each  in  any  particular  case.  If,  when  you  have  caught 
your  small  boy,  another  boy  appears  and  testifies  that  the 
one  you  have  caught  did  not  throw  at  your  window,  you 
pay  little  attention.  But  if  your  minister  happens  to  be 
in  the  same  street,  and  testifies  also  that  this  boy  did  not 
throw  at  your  window,  you  let  the  captive  go.  Personal 
testimony  from  an  honest  and  unprejudiced  witness  has 
outweighed  strong  circumstantial  evidence.  But  suppose 
the  boy  turned  out  to  be  the  ministers  son,  or  you  knew 
the  minister  to  be  extremely  short-sighted;  you  might, 
then,  believing  him  prejudiced  or  incompetent,  still  in- 
sist on  turning  the  lad  over  your  knee.  The  question  upon 
every  assertion  resolves  itself  into  the  value  of  the  proof 
you  present.  You  must  produce  proof  which  outweighs 
the  proof  upon  the  other  side. 

77.  The  Processes  of  Logic. — Inference  is  a  matter  of 
the  relation  of  facts  to  general  truth.  Inference,  there- 
fore, is  based  on  logic. 

Now  underlying  theoretical  logic  are  two  processes  of 
reasoning.  One  is  the  process  that  follows  experiment, 
the  other  the  process  that  follows  reflection.  The  one 
considers  a  succession  of  known  facts,  and  draws  from 
them  a  general  conclusion.    The  other,  having  reached 


ARGUMENTATION  129 

a  general  conclusion,  applies  that  conclusion  to  an  un- 
known case. 

For  example:  the  baby  handles  snow,  and  chills  his 
fingers.  He  handles  it  again,  with  the  same  result.  He 
accordingly  reaches  the  general  conclusion  that  all  soft 
white  stuff  hurts  his  fingers.  He  has  experimented  and 
come  to  this  belief.  That  is  the  process  of  logic  called 
induction.  Now  show  him  cotton-wool,  and  he  will  not 
touch  it  Why?  He  applies  his  general  conclusion,  all 
soft  white  stuff  hurts  his  fingers,  to  the  unknown  cotton- 
wool, and  reasons  that  this  "particular  stuff  will  hurt  his 
fingers.  That  is  the  process  called  deduction.  The  two,  it 
will  be  seen,  go  hand  in  hand.  You  cannot  reach  any 
general  conclusion  except  from  known  particular  instances; 
nor  can  you  place  any  particular  unknown  instance  except 
by  testing  it  in  accordance  with  some  general  conclusion. 

78.  The  Basis  of  General  Conclusions. — Such  are 
the  processes  of  logic.  But  the  right  or  wrong  of  the  con* 
elusions  you  come  to  depend  not  on  those  processes  them- 
selves, but  on  your  own  accuracy  in  their  employment. 
The  processes  are  automatic;  you  are  the  important  fac- 
tor. The  baby  is  wrong  both  in  his  general  conclusion,  all 
soft  white  stuff  hurts  my  fingers,  and  in  his  application  of 
it  to  the  cotton-wool.  Why  is  he  wrong  in  his  general 
conclusion  ?  Because  he  has  based  it  on  insufficient  data. 
Theoretically,  we  cannot  reach  any  general  conclusion 
until  we  have  examined  every  particular  instance.  The- 
oretically, for  instance,  we  cannot  even  say  "All  men  are 
mortal,"  because  we  do  not  know  that  all  men  have  died 
or  will  die.  Practically,  we  do  find  it  safe  to  come  to  this 
conclusion,  and  to  all  similar  conclusions  which  have  been 
preceded  by  a  great  deal  of  general  experiment  and  knowl- 
edge of  particular  instances.  That  the  earth  is  round, 
that  fire  burns,  that  water  finds  its  own  level,  we  assert  aa 


130  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

truth.  But  that  protection  is  advantageous  to  trade,  that 
a  college  education  is  a  good  thing  for  most  boys,  that 
a  taste  for  drink  may  be  inherited — these  assertions,  al- 
though confidently  made  over  and  over  again,  are  still 
uncertain,  still  awaiting  really  satisfactory  proof.  Whether 
we  are  convinced  or  unconvinced  of  their  truth  depends  on 
what  kind  and  amount  of  data  we  have  secured  to  base 
them  on. 

79.  The  Application  to  Particular  Instances,  Syllo- 
gisms.— It  is  easy  to  err  also  in  reasoning  from  some 
general  conclusion  to  a  particular  instance,  The  typical 
form  of  this  reasoning  may  be  shown  in  what  is  called  a 
syllogism. 

All  men  must  die  (general  conclusion). 
You  are  a  man  (particular  instance). 
Therefore  you  must  die  (particular  conclusion)* 

Or,  to  take  the  example  just  cited, 

All  soft  white  stuff  hurts  the  fingers. 
This  is  soft  white  stuff. 
This  will  hurt  the  fingers. 

The  general  conclusion  is  technically  called  the  major 
premise,  the  particular  instance  is  called  the  minor  premise. 
Now  your  particular  conclusion  is  wrong 

(1)  If  the  major  premise  is  not  true,  or 

(2)  If  the  minor  premise  is  not  true,  or 

(3)  If  the  relation  between  them  is  not  exactly  as  stated. 
The  conclusion  that  cotton-wool  will  hurt  the  fingers  is 
wrong,  because  the  major  premise  that  all  soft  white  stuff 
hurts  the  fingers  is  wrong.  Suppose  the  child  to  have 
learned  specifically  that  snow  is  cold.  Then  he  reasons- 
Snow  is  cold. 

This  (the  cotton-wool)  is  snow 
This  is  cold. 


ARGUMENTATION  181 

His  conclusion  is  wrong  again.  He  is  right  in  his  major 
premise,  but  wrong  in  his  minor.   Or  suppose  he  reasons; 

Most  soft  white  stuff  hurts  the  fingers. 
This  is  soft  white  stuff. 
This  will  hurt  the  fingers. 

Once  more  he  is  wrong.  His  major  premise  may  be  as- 
sumed to  be  true;  his  minor  premise  is  true  also;  but  the 
relation  between  them  is  not  exact.  "  Most  soft  white  stuff" 
leaves  a  margin  of  some  soft  white  stuff  which  does  not 
hurt  the  fingers,  and  so  makes  the  conclusion  futile.  A 
syllogism  is  accurate  in  its  conclusion,  then,  only  when  both 
general  conclusion  and  particular  instance  are  correct,  and 
when  the  general  conclusion  wholly  covers  the  particular 
instance. 

For  many  reasons  an  argument  cannot  successfully  be 
carried  on  by  syllogisms.  But  syllogisms  furnish  an  ad- 
mirable test  of  an  argument.  Somebody  declares  that 
So-and-so  is  hot-tempered;  he  must  be,  because  he  is  an 
Italian.    Reduce  this  to  a  syllogism. 

All  Italians  are  hot-tempered 
So-and-so-is  an  Italian* 
So-and-so  is  hot-tempered. 

But  the  major  premise,  that  all  Italians  are  hot-tern 
pered,  will  not  hold;  therefore  the  argument  fails.  Some 
one  else  says  "The  system  of  coaching  at  So-and-so  must 
be  poor,  because  the  So-and-so  crews  are  always  beaten 
at  Poughkeepsie."    His  argument  is: 

Defeat  is  the  result  of  poor  coaching. 
So-and-so  is  always  defeated. 
So-and-so  is  poorly  coached. 

Again  the  majoi  premise  b  inaccurate,  and  the  aigt> 
mem  will  not  hold* 


132  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

80.  Analogy. — A  third  form  of  reasoning,  called  argu> 
merit  from  analogy,  infers  that  similar  results  will  follow 
similar  causes.  Observe:  this  is  not  to  say  that  the  same 
things  will  follow  the  same  causes.  That  is  induction. 
If  you  have  suffered  twice  after  eating  cucumbers,  you 
reason  inductively  that  you  will  always  suffer  after  eating 
cucumbers.  But  what  about  eating  sweet  pickles?  You 
reason  by  analogy  that  as  one  pickle  is  like  another,  you 
had  best  not  eat  the  sweet  pickles  either.  Said  Patrick 
Henry:  "Caesar  had  his  Brutus,  Charles  I  his  Crom- 
well, and  George  the  Third — may  profit  by  their  exam- 
ple/* That  is,  reasoning  by  analogy,  George  the  Third 
is  conducting  himself  as  Caesar  did,  as  Charles  did;  and 
a  like  fate  may  overtake  him. 

The  accuracy  of  the  argument  from  analogy  depends 
on  the  extent  of  the  likeness  between  the  causes  com- 
pared. The  initiative  and  referendum  have  been  used 
successfully  in  Switzerland:  would  they,  therefore,  be 
successful  in  the  United  States?  Conditions  in  Switzer- 
land and  the  United  States  are  admittedly  not  the  same; 
but  how  like  are  they?  The  force  of  the  argument  is 
measured  by  the  amount  of  their  likeness.  The  adoption 
of  the  "  honor-system n  in  examinations  has  been  advan- 
tageous at  Princeton;  are  the  conditions  here  sufficiently 
similar  to  those  at  Princeton  to  permit  of  the  argument  by 
analogy?  Or  again,  the  Civil  War  was  brought  about  by 
a  clash  of  industrial  interests  between  North  and  South. 
Now  we  have  a  clash  of  industrial  interests  between  East 
and  West — shall  we  expect  another  Civil  War?  No. 
because  the  likeness  of  conditions  is  really  very  slight 

Argument  from  analogy,  to  be  successful,  therefore, 
must  first  establish  the  essential  likeness  of  the  things  com* 
pared.  Calling  them  alike  is  not  sufficient;  they  must  be 
proved  to  be  so.    Even  then  the  argument  does  not  go  m 


ARGUMENTATION  133 

far  as  induction;  it  can  never  assert  proof,  but  only  prob- 
ability. 

81.  Summary. — Argument,  then,  is  carried  on  by  asser- 
tions, based  on  fact  and  inference.  The  inferences  may 
be  by  induction,  by  deduction,  or  by  analogy.  The  effort 
of  constructive  argument  is  to  collect  facts  in  support  of 
inferences,  and  to  infer  accurately  from  the  facts  col- 
lected. The  effort  of  destructive  argument  is  to  disprove 
what  is  stated  as  fact,  and  to  point  out  inaccuracies  in  in- 
ference. In  all  matters  open  to  argument,  complete  dem- 
onstration is  impossible;  temporary  conviction  depends 
on  the  comparative  strength  of  the  case  as  presented  by 
each  side. 

82.  The  Preparation  of  an  Argument. — Let  us  con- 
sider now  the  actual  preparation  of  an  argument.  In  the 
first  place,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  all  the  statements  made 
in  chapter  I  of  course  hold  good  here.  You  cannot  argue 
what  you  have  not  special  knowledge  of;  you  cannot  argue 
effectively  a  large  question  in  a  small  space. 

83.  Determining  the  Issue. — In  the  second  place, 
no  argument  amounts  to  anything  unless  both  sides  agree 
on  the  points  at  issue.  If  you  and  I  differ  on  the  question 
whether  Jones  should  be  elected  class  president,  and  you 
insist  that  Jones  is  honest,  while  I  am  declaring  that  he 
has  no  tact,  we  make  no  progress  in  our  argument.  The 
issues  are  apparently,  what  qualities  are  required  in  a  class 
president,  and  has  Jones  those  qualities  ?  If  these  are  not 
the  issues,  we  must  agree  on  something  else  that  is. 

84.  Definition  of  Terms. — The  determination  of  the 
issues  may  depend  upon  the  definition  of  the  terms.  Sup- 
pose an  argument  upon  the  question  "Should  the  honor- 
system  in  examinations  be  introduced  here?"  There 
are  " honor-systems"  which  require  only  the  statement  on 
the  part  of  every  student  that  he  has  neither  given  nor 
received   assistance     There   am    afcr    "honor-svstems" 


134  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

which  require  each  student  to  report  any  case  of  dishon. 
esty  he  may  see.  Until  by  definition  you  make  clear  the 
kind  of  "honor-system"  you  mean,  you  cannot  proceed  to 
any  real  argument.  Again,  it  is  declared  that  the  study 
of  Greek  makes  for  culture.  But  what  is  culture?  Yet 
again,  style  is  declared  to  be  innate;  style  cannot  be  taught. 
True,  if  by  style  is  meant  the  literary  expression  of  a  per- 
sonality; not  true,  if  by  style  is  meant  the  ability  to  write 
clearly  and  accurately.  In  conversation,  this  definition  of 
terms  often  ends  the  argument;  when  a  definition  is  agreed 
on,  the  talkers  find  they  agree  in  their  conclusions.  In 
written  argument,  a  fair  and  clear  definition  of  any  un- 
known or  ambiguous  terms  is  equally  important. 

85.  The  Introduction. — All  this  preliminary  material 
is  grouped  in  what  is  technically  called  the  Introduction 
of  an  argument.  The  introduction  may  contain  also  the 
history  of  the  origin  of  the  case  (if  such  a  history  is  neces- 
sary) and  your  reasons  for  discussing  the  matter.  Its 
function  is  to  make  plain  just  what  is  the  question  at  issue. 

86.  The  Body  of  the  Argument. — Having  then,  in 
your  Introduction,  got  at  the  real  question,  what  is  your 
process  in  arguing  it  out?  What  shall  be  the  arrangement 
of  your  material  I  A  sound  argument  consists  of  a  series 
of  assertions  logically  supporting  one  another  and  each  rest- 
ing upon  sufficient  proof.  You  say  to  your  friend,  "You 
ought  to  go  to  college.  A  college  education  would  be  of 
great  value  to  you,  and  you  can  well  afford  it."  That  is 
not  a  sound  argument;  it  is  only  the  beginning  of  an  ar- 
gument. The  statement  "you  ought  to  go  to  college"  de- 
pends in  part  on  the  statement  "a  college  education  would 
be  of  great  value  to  you."  But  on  what  does  this  latter 
statement  depend?  Let  us  say  on  two  others:  (1)  "You 
mean  to  be  a  lawyer,"  (2)  "a  college  education  is  of  great 
value  to  a  iawver."  Statement  (1)  probably  needs  no 
supporting  statement  and  no  proof.     But  «tatenv?nfc  f?) 


ARGUMENTATION  133 

needs  both.  A  college  education  is  oi  great  value  to  a 
lawyer;  why?  Because  every  lawyer  needs  general  cult- 
ural trainings  because  only  through  a  college  education 
can  this  training  be  secured;  because  further,  experience 
has  shown  that  such  an  education  is  of  great  value.  Noi 
can  the  argument  stop  here.  The  statement  that  everv 
lawyer  needs  general  cultural  training  requires  proof;  so 
does  the  statement  that  only  through  a  college  education 
can  this  general  cultural  training  be  secured.  Bring  on 
your  evidence.  On  the  other  hand,  the  statement  "you 
can  well  afford  it"  may  require  no  further  supporting 
statements  and  no  further  proof. 

87.  The  Process  of  Argument. — What  then  is  your 
right  process  in  argumentation  ?  Decide  upon  what  state 
merits  your  original  assertion  rests.  Decide  in  turn  upon 
what  statement  each  supporting  statement  rests.  Prove  by 
evidence  every  statement  you  make,  unless  such  proof  b 
obviously  not  needed. 

Let  us  represent  such  an  analysis  graphically. 

You  Ought  to  Go  to  College. 

(THE  QUESTION  AT  ISSUE.) 

.1    A  College  Education  would  be  of  great  value  to  you 

(1)  You  mean  to  be  a  lawyer  (no  proof  needed). 

(2)  A  college  education  is  of  great  value  to  a  lawyer 
I1.  Every  lawyer  needs  general  cultural  training. 

1*.  (Proof.) 
21.  Such  general  cultural  education  can  be  se- 
cured only  through  a  college  education. 
I'*  It  cannot  be  secured  by  a  high-s«hool 
education  alone. 
1*.  (Proof.) 
8*.  It  cannot  be  secured  by  self-trainingr 
\\  (Proof.) 


136  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

(3)  Experience  has  shown  that  such  an  education  is 
of  great  value. 
V.  (Proof.) 

Note, — Any  consistent  system  of  notation  will  serve  to  show 
the  relation  of  point  to  point.    Alternating  letters  and  figures 
are  possible  for  simple  briefs. 
L  Main  head. 

A.  Subhead  under  I. 
1.  Subhead  under  A. 
(a)  Subhead  under  1. 
For  any  complicated  analysis,  however,  the  form  shown  In  the 
text  is  best. 
1.  Main  head. 

I1.  Subhead  under  1. 
P.  Subhead  under  l1. 
1*.    Subhead  under  lf. 
And  so  on  indefinitely,  the  exponents  indicating  the  number  of 
steps  away  from  the  main  head.     In  any  system,  care  must  be 
taken  to  keep  the  different  points  in  right  relation.    Every 
main  head  will  be  1,  2,  3,  etc.;  every  subhead  directly  support- 
ing a  main  head  will  be  l1,  21,  3l,  etc.;  every  subhead  two  steps 
away  from  the  main  head  will  be  V9  22,  32;  and  so  on. 

1 

V 

2> 

9 

P. 

2»!  Y...Y.Y. 
v 

2». ,, 

3» 

3. 

I1 * 

9 

V 

2». 

9 

tf 

V 

9 

1*.  .„„,•«*, 


ARGUMENTATION  *3? 

88.  Refutation. — In  every  argument  are  two  sides 5 
what  one  asserts  the  other  may  deny.  I  say:  "You 
ought  to  go  to  college,  because  you  mean  to  be  a  lawyer, 
and  a  lawyer  needs  a  college  education."  You  reply: 
"A  lawyer  does  not  need  a  college  education.  At  what 
college  was  Abraham  Lincoln  educated  ?  The  most  suc- 
cessful lawyer  in never  saw  the  inside  of  a  college.'* 

Now  the  chances  are  1  shall  have  anticipated  these  state* 
ments,  and  am  prepared  to  refute  them.  I  reply :  "  Abraham 
Lincoln  is  not  a  fair  example.  Times  have  changed;  were 
he  growing  up  now,  with  his  interests  he  would  go  tj 
college.  The lawyer  you  refer  to  is  a  mere  money- 
making  machine,  and  a  bad  citizen.  And,  moreover,  1 
could  recite  you  hundreds  of  cases  of  successful  college- 
trained  lawyers,  as  opposed  to  your  two." 

Now,  thinking  over  the  analysis  of  my  argument  be- 
forehand, if  I  anticipate  these  objections,  I  shall  wish  m 
include  my  counter-statements  somewhere  in  my  analysis 
Where  ? 

I,  2.  A  college  education  is  of  great  value  to  a  lawyer 

l1 

21 

3\  That  men  not  college-trained  have  succeeded  in  tb* 
profession  does  not  disprove  my  point. 
I1.  Conditions  in  the  past  were  different — as  Lm 

coin's. 
2*.  Such  men  who  succeed  now  are  generally  only 

money-makers — as  the lawyer. 

In  other  words,  I  put  in  where  they  belong  all  the  argu 
ments  against  my  contention,  as  well  as  those  in  favor;  and 
my  analysis  shows  how  I  intend  to  meet  them. 

Sometimes  ail  objections  to  an  argument  are  left  aside 
until  the  positive  argument  has  been  completed,  and  then 
taken  up  and  refuted  one  by  one.  Neither  way  is  neces- 
sarily better.    If  the  objections  are  to  leading  statements 


138  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

tit  the  argument,  they  may  well  be  left  to  be  handled  m  a 
group  at  the  end;  if  they  are  to  details,  they  should  be 
disposed  of  where  they  crop  up.  But  an  argument  that 
does  not  consider  them  is  no  argument.  Knocking  down 
a  straw  man  is  not  even  good  exercise. 

89.  The  Form  of  a  Brief. — Such  an  analysis  as  this 
the  trained  mind  makes,  even  in  conversation,  instinc- 
tively, and  unerringly  follows  out.  The  untrained  mind 
finds  many  difficulties.  But  practice  in  actual  writing 
down  of  such  analyses  is  of  great  help.  The  form  here 
given  was  suggested  years  ago  by  Professor  Baker,  of 
Harvard.  It  is  technically  called  a  brief,  though  it  does 
not  in  any  way  resemble  what  lawyers  call  a  brief,  and 
should  not  be  confused  with  that  Such  an  analysis  as 
this,  it  should  be  noted, 

(1)  Is  made  up  of  complete  statements  only. 

(2)  Works  backward  from  the  main  assertion  to  the 
statements  upon  which  that  assertion  depends;  then  in 
turn  to  the  statements  upon  which  these  depend;  and  so  on 
till  at  every  point  a  statement  is  reached  which  can  be  put 
as  a  fact.  On  these  facts,  and  the  evidence  for  them  when 
evidence  is  needed,  the  argument  ultimately  rests. 

Note. — It  will  be  seen  that  every  statement  is  phrased  as  a 

reason  for  some  statement  that  precedes  it.    To  test  your  form, 

therefore,  follow  every  head  which  has  a  subhead  with  the  word 

because.     If  the  brief,  so  read,  makes  sense,  it  is  in  correct  form, 

1.  You  should  go  to  college,  because 

l1.  You  mean  to  be  a  lawyer. 

2*.  A  college  education  is  of  great  value  to  a  lawyer,  be* 
cause 
1**  He  needs  a  general  cultural  training. 
2*.  Such  a  training  can  be  secured  only  through  a  col- 
lege education,  because 
1*.  It  cannot  be  secured  by  a  high-school  course,  etc, 
fhis  use  of  "because"  is  a  test  only,  a  kind  of  mathematical 
proving  device    it  has  no  virtue  in  itelL 


ARGUMENTATION  139 

(3)  Does  not  make  the  writer  think  clearly;  only  tests 
his  thinking,  shows  whether  his  thinking  is  clear  or  not. 

(4)  Cannot  be  made  without  definite  knowledge  of  the 
question  about  which  he  is  arguing.  It  is  the  last  step 
before  actually  entering  upon  the  argument. 

90.  The  Conclusion. — An  Introduction,  it  has  been 
said,  makes  clear  the  question  at  issue,  and  is  therefore 
essential  to  every  argument.  A  Conclusion  is  by  no  means 
so  essential.  If  the  issues  have  been  made  clear  and  have 
been  clearly  argued,  the  case  may  safely  be  left  to  the 
judgment  of  the  readers.  A  final  paragraph  or  two, 
however,  is  often  helpful,  if  directed  to  the  right  end.  It 
should  either  summarize  or  directly  endeavor  to  per- 
suade. If  a  summary,  it  may  either  recapitulate  the  whole 
argument  in  brief  or  restate  the  main  contention.  Re- 
capitulation is  stiff,  and  likely  to  be  wordy;  simple  restate- 
ment of  the  main  contention  is  usually  wise.  If  your 
conclusion  attempts  directly  to  persuade  the  reader,  let  it 
be  brief  and  based  on  the  arguments  already  presented. 
A  conclusion  which  merely  offers  a  new  argument  or  two, 
as  if  they  had  been  overlooked  in  the  hurry  of  preparation, 
is  worse  than  useless. 

91.  Persuasion. — Theoretically,  persuasion  is  broader 
than  argument;  it  includes  argument,  and  adds  to  it  a 
direct  appeal  to  the  reader's  feelings.  If  you  wish  Jones 
to  be  elected  class  president,  you  say  to  your  friend,  "  Here, 
Jones  is  a  good  man.  Besides,  you  like  me,  and  I  want 
Jones  elected — vote  for  him,  won't  you?"  The  last  sen- 
tence is  a  direct  appeal  to  the  feelings.  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  speaking  on  slavery,  in  1864,  to  an  openly  hos- 
tile audience  at  Liverpool,  spent  some  time  in  a  discussion 
of  the  English  love  of  fair  play.  It  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  issue;  but  it  helped  to  get  him  a  hearing  for  hi* 
arguments. 


140  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Practically,  however,  persuasion  is  so  interwoven  with 
argument  as  to  be  almost  inseparable.  Our  feelings  and 
our  reason  go  usually  hand  in  hand.  Persuasion  means 
really,  therefore,  getting  your  audience  to  take  an  interest 
in  your  argument.  Having  won  their  attention,  you  have 
half  won  your  case.  In  writing  or  speaking  to  convince, 
therefore,  study  your  audience.  If  you  have  made  a  brief 
beforehand,  the  obvious  thing  is  merely  to  amplify  your 
brief  by  the  statement  of  your  evidence.  Such  is  the 
proper  procedure  in  a  purely  technical  or  scientific  matter. 
But  if  your  argument  is  meant  for  any  but  technical  ex- 
perts, such  a  procedure  is  unwise.  Follow  the  order  of 
your  brief,  by  all  means,  and  if  that  is  clear,  so  will  your 
argument  be  clear.  But  think  of  the  brief  as  being  to  the 
argument  only  what  the  ground  plan  is  to  the  house,  the 
scenario  to  the  play.  The  brief  is  an  exercise  in  thought, 
the  argument  is  an  effort  at  expression.  Enliven  it,  make 
it  personal.  Tell  a  story  to  illustrate  your  point;  use 
specific  illustrations,  specific  words;  do  not  disturb  your- 
self by  the  fear  that  you  may  be  writing  narration  or  de- 
scription. Know  what  your  point  is,  and  write  to  make 
that  point,  without  regard  to  what  form  of  composition  a 
particular  sentence  may  be.  So  you  may  fail,  but  you 
will  surely  fail,  with  a  general  audience,  if  you  merely 
reproduce  your  brief  minus  the  marks  of  notation. 

Finally,  as  a  matter  of  effective  good  taste,  be  courteous 
in  your  phrasing.  "  Such  and  such  a  thing  is  so  " — "  I  have 
now  proved  that,"  etc. — "Any  such  statement  is  absurd" 
— phrases  of  this  sort  are  disadvantageous.  If  you  carry 
a  big  stick,  you  can  afford  to  speak  softly;  if  you  doubt 
the  weight  of  your  weapon  is  not  loud  speech  unsafe? 
Wisdom  dies  with  few,  but  its  growth  shall  be  encouraged 
with  l«4ir  words;  you  cannot  drive  it  into  your  hearers 
like  a  stake, 


ARGUMENTATION  14S 


Exercises. 

Analyze  the  value  of  the  evidence  in  the  following 
cases: 

1.  A,  following  his  election  as  senator,  is  charged  with  bri- 
bery. He  is  said  to  have  paid  one  thousand  dollars  to  B,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  legislature,  for  B's  vote.  B  testifies  that  A  paid 
him  the  money  in  ten  100-dollar  bills  in  the  presence  of  C  and 
D,  and  that  on  the  same  day  he  (B)  deposited  the  money  in  the 
bank.     B  is  a  poor  man,  of  bad  character. 

C  testifies  that  he  was  present  when  A  and  B  met,  and  that 
A  paid  no  money  to  B.  C  is  a  man  of  bad  character,  employed 
by  A. 

D  testifies  that  he  was  present  when  A  and  B  met,  and  that 
A  paid  B  one  thousand  dollars  in  ten  100-dollar  bills.  D  is  a 
man  of  bad  character,  a  close  friend  cf  B. 

E,  a  bank  clerk,  testifies  that  on  the  day  A  and  B  met,  B 
deposited  one  thousand  dollars  in  his  bank,  in  ten  100-dollar 
bills. 

2.  A,  a  girl  in  her  senior  year  in  high-school,  is  accused  of 
cheating  in  her  final  examination  in  mathematics.  The  accusa- 
tion is  made  by  B,  her  teacher  of  mathematics,  who  testifies 
(1)  that  A  has  always  been  weak  in  mathematics,  and  was 
warned  of  her  probable  failure  to  pass,  (2)  that  she  sat  next  C, 
a  very  good  student  in  mathematics,  and  the  two  spoke  to^ 
gether  twice,  (3)  that  in  A's  paper  the  method  of  solving  two 
problems  was  unusual  and  identical  with  C's  method,  (4)  that 
when  two  days  later  in  a  private  test  A  was  given  two  similar 
problems  to  solve,  she  did  them  differently  and  incorrectly. 

A  testifies  that  she  is  innocent;  that  she  studied  beforehand 
with  C;  that  they  worked  over  the  two  identical  problems  given 
in  the  examination;  that  in  the  examination  when  she  spoke  to  G 
it  was  to  borrow  a  lead-pencil,  and  that  she  did  not  look  at  C's 
paper;  that  in  the  subsequent  private  test  she  was  too  nervous 
to  do  herself  the  least  justice.  A  is  a  girl  of  high  social  standing, 
not  a  hard  worker,  but  well  liked  by  nearly  everybody. 

C  testifies  that  she  and  A  had  worked  out  the  night  before 
the  two  identical  problems  given  in  the  examination;  that  she 
gave  A  no  assistance  of  any  kind  in  the  examination — that  A 


142  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

spoke  to  her  twice  to  borrow  a  lead-pencil  and  once  to  complain 
of  the  heat.  C  is  a  hard  student,  but  socially  ambitious;  she 
lives  across  the  street  from  A. 

D,  who  sat  just  behind  A  and  C,  testifies  that  he  did  not  see 
A  look  at  C's  paper;  that  he  heard  A  speak  to  C  only  once,  and 
then  to  borrow  a  lead-pencil.  D  is  an  unusually  fine  student, 
highly  thought  of  by  everyone,  near-sighted,  and  capable  of  great 
concentration. 

A's  mother  testifies  that  A  had  worked  with  C  three  hours 
the  night  before  the  examination,  and  that  A  was  so  unnerved 
by  the  accusation  of  cheating  that  she  could  eat  nothing  for 
twenty-four  hours. 

3.  A,  a  college  sophomore,  declares  that  immigration  should 
be  further  restricted,  on  the  ground  that  many  criminals  and 
people  of  weak  health  are  now  being  allowed  to  enter  the  coun- 
try. He  cites  as  authority  statements  made  by  a  professor  of 
sociology  who  has  for  many  years  been  opposed  to  unrestricted 
immigration;  an  anonymous  article  in  a  magazine;  his  per- 
sonal experience  in  a  two-day  visit  to  Ellis  Island,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  observation;  two  inspectors  with  whom  he  conversed; 
and  the  declaration  of  an  official  of  a  steamship  company,  a 
personal  friend  of  A's,  who  says  that  the  business  of  bringing  in 
such  immigrants  is  profitable  to  the  company,  but  unpatriotic. 

B  denies  that  criminals  and  people  of  weak  health  are  allowed 
to  land,  and  cites  the  chief  of  inspection;  a  well-known  woman 
philanthropist;  the  heads  of  four  steamship  companies,  two 
German  and  two  English;  the  report  of  the  Secretary  of  the 
Interior;  and  two  cases  where  to  his  own  knowledge  immi- 
grants in  weak  health  have  been  turned  back. 

Logic, — Induction  leads  us  to  a  general  conclusion; 
applying  these  general  conclusions  to  particular  instances, 
we  reach  particular  conclusions.  Among  the  following, 
which  are  the  general  conclusions,  which  are  the  particu- 
lar conclusions  ?  Suggest  the  sort  of  experimental  process 
that  precedes  each  general  conclusion  and  formulate  the 
particular  conclusions  in  syllogisms. 

Example:  Hornets  sting.  (A  general  conclusion  reached 
by  individual  experimentation.) 


ARGUMENTATION  143 

Look  out! — thafs  a  hornet  and  he'U  sting  you.  (Two 
particular  conclusions.  Expressed  as  syllogisms  they 
would  run  thus: 

{All  insects  of  a  certain  form  and  color  are  hornets. 
This  is  an  insect  of  that  form  and  color. 
This  is  a  hornet. 


f  All  hornets  sting. 
(6)  <(  This  is  a  hornet. 
[  This  will  sting.) 

1.  Girls  learn  more  quickly  than  boys. 

2.  A  bully  is  always  a  coward. 

3.  "That  isn't  an  Indian."      "Yes  it  is;    look  at  his  cheek- 
bones."    "Yes,  but  don't  you  see  that  his  hair  is  curly?" 

4.  I  came  of  good  stock.     I  expect  to  live  to  be  ninety. 

5.  Football  is  dangerous. 

6.  A  boy  like  you  ought  to  play  football. 

7.  I  won't  hire  anyone  who  smokes  cigarettes. 

8.  Fortune  favors  the  brave. 

9.  What  a  soft  voice  he  has,  and  what  soft  hands!    Has  he 
ever  gone  to  public  school? 

10.  Macaulay  writes  shorter  sentences  than  any  other  well- 
known  historian. 

What  is  the  logical  process  involved,  and  what  is  the 
defect,  in  each  of  the  following  conclusions: 

j..  If  you  walk  under  a  ladder  you  will  suffer  misfortune  within 
forty-eight  hours.  My  aunt  walked  under  one  once,  and  that 
very  day  she  burned  her  hand  terribly.  (General  conclusion, 
reached  by  deductive  reasoning  from  insufficient  data.) 

2.  "These  fine-talking  men  from  the  big  towns  mostly  wear 
those  false  shirt-fronts;  they  wear  a  frill  till  it's  all  a  mess,  and  then 
they  hide  it  with  a  bib:  I  know  Riley  does."     (George  Eliot.) 

3.  "A  spaniel,  a  woman  and  a  walnut  tree — 
The  more  you  beat  'em,  the  better  they  be." 

4.  Municipal  ownership  of  street-railways  has  worked  well  in 
Glasgow,  and  should  be  adopted  f«  ^ew  York  City. 


144  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

5.  Let  a  boy  leave  a  ten-dollar  bill  on  his  desk  in  his  frater- 
nity house;  will  any  other  boy  in  the  chapter  take  it?  No.  If 
you  trust  boys  you  can  be  sure  of  their  honesty;  and  so  you  will 
find  it  to  be  if  you  adopt  the  honor-system  in  examinations. 

6.  Stay  at  home,  boys,  if  you  want  to  get  on.  A  rolling  stone 
gathers  no  moss. 

7.  I  don't  think  much  of  a  college  education.  My  father  had 
none,  and  is  a  successful  man.  My  uncle  went  to  college,  and 
my  father  supports  him. 

8.  It  is  never  safe  to  give  to  beggars.  Anyone  who  will  beg 
will  lie.     I    have  personally  twice  seen  examples  of  this  fact. 

Write  m  outline  the  introduction  to  an  argument  on 
each  of  the  following  questions,  giving  the  definition  of 
each  term  as  needed  and  stating  what  the  issue  is: 

(Example.     Should  Smith  be  made  class  president? 

1.  The  question  is  urgent,  for  (a)  the  election  comes  to-mor- 
row, (6)  the  president  really  decides  the  value  of  the  class,  as 
an  organization,  to  the  college. 

2.  I  agree  that  Smith  is  competent  in  many  ways, 

3.  The  issues  are: 

(a)  Has  he  the  qualities  necessary  to  a  successful  claas  presi- 
dent? 

(6)  Is  there  no  better  man  for  the  place? 

(Note  that,  so  far,  no  one  can  tell  on  which  side  you  mean  to 
argue.     In  other  words,  your  Introduction  is  unprejudiced.)  ) 

1.  Should  an  Inter-Class  Baseball  series  be  undertaken? 

2.  Was  Hamlet  justified  in  his  treatment  of  Ophelia? 

3.  Should  the  study  of  public  speaking  be  required  in  college? 
(Define  the  term.)  v 

4.  Should  work  in  physical  culture  be  required  in  college, 
and  if  so,  how  much?     (Define  the  term.) 

5.  Should  United  States  senators  be  elected  by  direct  vote 
of  the  people? 

6.  Should  the  town  you  live  in  adopt  the  commission  form 
of  government?     (Define  the  term.) 

7.  Was  Lady  Macbeth  responsible  for  her  husband's  downfall! 
(Define  responsible.) 


ARGUMENTATION  145 

8.  Can  our  present  method  of  teaching  English  Composition 
be  changed  for  the  better? 

9.  Can  the  average  man  work  his  way  successfully  through 
college?     (Define  your  terms.) 

Organize  in  brief  form  the  following  arguments: 

1.  You  ought  to  learn  to  dance.  You  sat  around  like  a  ninny 
at  the  Prom.  Of  course  if  your  parents  objected  I  wouldn't 
say  a  word;  or  even  if  you  didn't  enjoy  going  out  and  seeing 
people,  though  to  be  sure  if  you  didn't  you  ought  to,  and  to 
learn  to  dance  would  be  the  surest  way  of  growing  to  like  going 
out.  Dancing  is  cheap  and  pleasant  amusement;  people  won- 
der at  you  if  you  don't  dance;  and  the  idea  that  it  wastes  time  is 
nonsense.  I  got  $BK  because  I  knew  enough  to  take  a  little  recre- 
ation occasionally. 

2.  Dormitory  life  is  all  very  well  for  the  timid  or  the  unso- 
ciable, but  for  a  girl  who  is  tempted  to  do  too  much,  as  I  am, 
it  is  a  failure.  One  comes  to  know  many  pleasant  people,  but 
at  a  terrible  cost  of  time.  The  dormitory  makes  so  many  de- 
mands! It  is  no  less  expensive  than  living  in  a  small  boarding- 
house.  Its  nearness  to  the  college  is  really  a  drawback,  for 
you  don't  have  to  walk  and  so  get  no  exercise.  I  tried  it  my 
freshman  year,  and  enjoyed  it  tremendously,  but  I'm  Dot  here 
principally  for  enjoyment. 

The  teacher  should  dictate  other  examples  of  this  sort  & 
^oiioquial  argument  for  analysis  and  organization. 


SECTION  VXIL 
Narration. 

92.  What  Narration  Is. — Narration  is  the  record  of 
events,  either  real  or  imaginary.  Pure  narration  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive  of  except  in  bits.  "  I  went  down  town  and 
bought  a  hat"  may  be  called  pure  narration.  But  in  every 
actual  case,  the  events  happen  somewhere,  and  to  some- 
body; thus  setting  and  characters  (which  demand  exposi- 
tion and  description)  are  essential.  "One  very  hot  day, 
when  I  was  only  five,  I  went  down  town  and  unassisted 
bought  a  hat"  introduces  both  setting  (one  very  hot  day) 
and  character  {when  I  was  only  five). 

93.  The  Object  of  Narration. — The  object  of  narra- 
tion is  to  stimulate  the  imagination  to  an  interest  in  the 
events  recorded.  A  precise  understanding  of  these  events 
rau^t  usually  accompany  the  interest;  but  the  interest  is 
the  prime  matter.  It  makes  no  difference  whether  the 
events  are  real  (as  those  of  reminiscence  or  history)  or 
fictitious  (as  those  of  the  short  story  and  the  novel).  The 
fundamental  interest  of  the  writer  is  the  same  in  both 
cases,  and  success  in  one  kind  of  narration  usually  implies 
ability  to  do  well  in  the  other.  The  trained  newspaper 
man  easily  learns  how  to  write  a  short  story;  the  novelist 
can  advise  the  historian  upon  the  method  of  presenting 
historical  material. 

94.  The  Methods  of  Narration. — The  basic  method 
of  narration  is  the  statement  of  events  in  the  order  of  their 
occurrence.     But  frequently  the  exact  order  it  is  unwise 

146 


NARRATION  147 

or  even  impossible  to  maintain.  Moreover,  what  events 
shall  be  included?  No  instant  can  pass  without  its  in- 
cident. If  I  let  my  hand  drop  to  my  side,  that  is  an  incident. 
Tolstoi,  in  War  and  Peace,  devotes  three  pages  to  chroni* 
cling  the  events  of  the  time  between  the  disappearance  of 
the  flame  of  a  lighted  fuse  into  a  bomb  and  the  explosion 
— perhaps  a  tenth  of  a  second.  Obviously,  in  no  narra- 
tion can  everything  that  happens  be  included.  For  effec- 
tive interest,  moreover,  as  already  pointed  out,  these  events 
must  be  related  to  the  people  and  places  whom  they  con- 
cern. Your  problems  of  narration,  then,  may  be  said  to 
be  as  follows: 

1.  How  shall  you  arrange  your  events? 

2.  What  events  shall  you  include  ? 

3.  How  shall  you  bring  in  your  characters? 

4.  How  shall  you  bring  in  your  setting? 

95.  The  Order  of  Events. — The  newspaper  always 
gives  first  the  outcome  or  resume'  of  a  series  of  events. 
\  the  case  of  a  fire,  for  example,  your  newspaper  inform? 
you  in  headlines  and  the  first  paragraph,  what  was  burnt, 
who  was  hurt,  and  how  much  property  was  destroyed. 

The  plan  is  occasionally  followed  by  other  than  news- 
paper writers;  for  example,  the  sentence  just  cited,  "One 
very  hot  day,  when  I  was  only  five,  I  went  down  town  and 
unassisted  bought  a  hat,"  is  plainly  such  a  resum£;  we 
expect  it  to  be  followed  by  details  which  fill  it  out.  The 
advantage  of  the  plan  is  that  it  concentrates  at  once  the 
attention  of  the  reader.  "I  am  the  boy  who  fell  three 
hundred  feet  from  a  captive  balloon  and  wasn't  hurt. 
Shall  I  tell  you  about  it  ?  Well  then — *'  Such  a  statement 
leads  one  to  immediate  interest;  the  reader  wishes  to 
know  how  such  a  thing  could  be. 

Beginning  in  the  Middle. — You  may  begin  neither  with 
a  statement  of  the  outcome,  nor  at  the  beginning,  but  in 


148  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

the  middle.  A  certain  rapidity,  a  certain  emphasis,  is  often 
gained  by  this  plan.  Suppose  you  are  giving  a  little  ac- 
count of  your  own  history.  You  might  begin:  "Last  year 
I  went  through  a  very  curious  experience,  perhaps  the  most 
important  of  my  life  so  far.  I,  who  had  always  planned 
to  be  a  lawyer,  decided  to  become  an  engineer.  I  remem* 
ber  the  night  I  came  to  my  final  conclusion.  There  1 
sat  with  my  father's  letter  in  front  of  me — my  life  to 
choose,  as  you  might  say — and  stared  at  a  corner  of  the 
ceiling.  The  janitor  had  been  careless;  there  was  a 
spider-web  in  that  corner,  and  the  light  fell  full  on  it. 
The  chap  who  built  that  web  was  an  engineer,  if  you 
please — or  would  you  call  him  a  lawyer,  getting  fat  on 
his  victims?    And  I  finally  decided. 

"But  if  you  are  to  understand  or  care  about  my  decision, 
you  must  know  something  about  me.  Well,  then — /  teas 
born  in  Texas,  May  4th,  1889."  And  so  on.  Now  it  is 
plain  that  the  events  of  paragraph  one  follow,  chronologi- 
cally, the  events  of  paragraph  two-  They  are  deliberately 
put  in  this  order  for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  The  device 
is  an  easy  one;  it  has  the  sanction  of  the  poet  Horace, 
with  his  in  medias  res;  and  it  may  sometimes  well  be 
adopted. 

Order  in  Complicated  Narration. — In  a  short  narration, 
with  only  one  character  or  group  of  characters,  events 
may  be  recorded,  if  the  author  wishes,  without  any  change 
from  the  chronological  order.  In  any  complicated  narra- 
tion, however,  one  which  involves  more  than  a  simple  set 
of  characters,  procedure  is  not  so  easy.  Telling,  for  in- 
stance, the  story  of  the  Battle  of  Waterloo,  you  must  in- 
clude an  account  of  Napoleon's  actions  before  the  actual 
onset;  of  Wellington's  also,  and  of  the  struggle.  You 
cannot  write  of  Napoleon  and  Wellington  simultaneously. 
You  deal  first  with  one,  therefore,  bringing  his  doings  up 


NARRATION  149 

to  the  moment  of  meeting;  then  shift  to  tne  other,  and 
recount  the  preliminary  incidents  which  concern  him,  up 
to  the  same  moment;  and  finally,  having  brought  them 
together,  go  on  with  both.  It  is  precisely  as  if  you 
had  two  heavy  stones  to  carry  across  a  field  and  down  the 
road.  You  bring  one  out  to  the  fence  and  put  it  in  the 
wheelbarrow;  go  back  and  bring  out  the  other,  and  then 
march  off  triumphantly  with  both.  If  you  had  ten  to 
carry  instead  of  two,  your  plan  would  be  the  same. 

96.  Suspense. — In  all  cases,  the  order  of  your  incidents 
is  governed  by  the.  necessity  of  suspense.  The  reader  of 
a  narration  wishes  to  know  how  it  is  coming  out.  His 
curiosity  satisfied  on  this  point,  his  interest  lapses.  But 
this  suspense  is  twofold.  He  wishes  to  know  (1)  the 
outcome,  (2)  how  the  outcome  is  to  be  reached.  His 
curiosity  is  not  satisfied  till  he  knows  both.  To  state  the 
outcome  first,  therefore,  may  merely  increase  his  interest. 
How,  he  asks,  can  you  reach  that  point  ?  But  the  moment 
he  sees  clearly  your  road  to  it,  he  stops  wondering.  This 
is  why  an  old  story  with  a  new  ending,  or  an  old  ending 
(such  as  marriage)  with  new  complications  preceding  it, 
may  both  be  successful  as  narrations;  why,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  moment  you  have  let  your  reader  see,  as  he 
travels  along  with  you,  precisely  the  turn  he  is  to  take, 
you  have  lost  him. 

97.  Selection  of  Incidents. — The  second  problem  is, 
"What  incidents  shall  you  choose ?"  To  say  "choose 
only  the  significant,"  is  good  advice,  but  vague.  What 
are  the  significant  incidents  ? 

In  the  first  place,  those  essential  to  the  story.  These 
generally  settle  themselves.  They  are  the  fundamental 
events,  without  which  there  is  no  narration  whatever. 
That  you  fell  out  of  the  boat,  that  you  sank,  that  some- 
one pulled  you  to  shore — you  could  not  give  an  account 


150  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

•*f  your  recent  adventure  in  the  water  without  these  or 
Jike  detail.  That  your  hero  was  born,  that  he  went  to 
x^ork,  that  he  married  and  died — you  could  write  no  bi- 
ography and  omit  these  matters.  Your  difficulty  of  choice 
will  not  lie  here,  but  in  other  matters* 

98.  Developing  Incidents. — Developing  incidents  are 
those  which  clothe  the  narrative,  which  are  intended  to 
stimulate  the  imagination  to  its  interest  in  the  essential 
events.  A  barn  is  set  on  fire  and  burns  to  the  ground. 
One  child  is  severely  hurt,  another  escapes  injury.  These 
are  the  essential  events.  But  let  us  add  that  Harry  Baker 
has  taken  his  small  brother  to  the  barn,  to  witness  the  smok- 
ing of  a  fern-leaf  cigarette;  that  the  match,  carelessly  tossed 
away,  smoulders  in  straw  and  then  sets  it  alight;  that  the 
two  boys  are  caught  in  the  mow;  that  Harry  lets  his  small 
brother  down  from  a  window  by  a  rope ;  that  he  then  crawls 
out  himself;  that  the  rope  breaks  and  he  drops,  breaking 
his  leg;  that  he  manages  to  crawl  to  safety.  The  details 
develop  the  story.  Now,  of  course,  we  may  proceed  to  any 
length  in  such  details.  How  the  match  came  to  find  the 
straw;  why  the  boys  were  so  long  in  noticing  the  fire;  how 
Harry  found  or  made  the  rope;  how  he  got  the  small 
brother  out  of  the  window;  how  the  rope  broke;  how  he 
managed  to  crawl  away — these  details  and  a  hundred 
others  we  may  add.     What  governs  our  choice  ? 

99.  Inherent  Interest  of  Events. — For  one  thing,  this: 
include  only  such  developing  incidents  as  are  in  them- 
selves interesting.  There  may  be  a  difference  of  opinion, 
of  course,  in  any  given  case.  You  set  out  for  the  aviation 
field  to  see  the  flying.  But  as  you  are  getting  off  the 
street  car  you  trip  and  sprain  your  ankle,  and  have  to  be 
taken,  ignominiously,  home.  Suppose  in  giving  an  ac- 
count of  this  adventure  you  begin: 

"I  had  never  seen  a  monopKne  in  action.     JWhen  I 


NARRATION  151 

was  twelve,  however,  I  had  tried  to  imitate  Darius  Green 
by  flying,  with  the  aid  of  my  mother's  silk  umbrella,  from 
the  shed-roof.  All  I  got  by  that  was  a  cut  knee  and  hard 
words  from  my  mother;  but  ever  since  then  I  had  taken  a 
keen  interest  in  aviation.]  Last  Wednesday  afternoon, 
therefore,  1  set  out  to  witness  the  Frenchmen  'conquer 
the  air '  at  Grant  Park."  Now  the  sentences  in  brackets 
are  not  necessary;  their  justification,  if  any,  is  that  they 
do  not  contradict  the  intention  of  the  narration,  and  that 
they  may  be  thought  to  have  inherent  interest.  Your  own 
judgment,  as  it  grows  by  practice,  must  make  the  decision 
in  each  particular  case. 

ioo.  Knowledge  of  the  Intention  of  the  Narration. 
— But  the  really  important  matter  is  specific  knowledge 
of  just  what  you  are  trying  to  tell.  If  your  story  is  of 
the  burning  of  the  barn,  you  will  put  in  details  that  par- 
ticularly concern  that;  if  your  story  is  of  Harry's  ex* 
ploit,  you  will  reduce  the  number  of  incidents  directly 
concerned  with  the  fire,  and  include  more  which  relate 
to  Harry's  deeds.  This  seems  obvious.  But  when  you 
have  written  of  a  fire-engine's  race  to  a  fire,  have  you 
never  included  details  of  how  you  happened  to  be  there? 
When  you  have  told  the  story  of  catching  a  two-pound 
bass,  did  you  never  begin  by  saying  that  "  One  day  we  boys 
decided  to  go  fishing.  So  the  next  morning,  about  half- 
past  five,  we  started  out "  ?  Observe  the  following  narra- 
tive. What  is  the  intention  of  the  narrator  ?    Did  he  know  ? 

"  The  typical  day  in  my  life  about  which  I  am  going  to  write 
is  taken  during  the  foot-ball  season  of  last  year.  I  was  then  a 
student  in  the  Alton  High  School.  Alton,  by  the  way,  is  situ- 
ated on  the  Mississippi  River,  five  miles  north  of  the  junction 
of  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  Rivers. 

"Because  of  the  numerous  taunts  of  my  classmates,  who 
repeatedly  called  me  'yellow/  I  was  determined  to  come  out 
for  foot-ball  practice  that  night.    I  had  never  fancied  f oot-balL 


152  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

and  my  so*e  reason  for  wishing  to  appear  for  practice  was  to 
prove  to  the  school  that  I  was  not  'yellow.' 

"All  through  the  day  my  thoughts  were  upon  the  foot-ball  field, 
and  the  many  deeds  which  I  intended  to  perform  in  order  to 
make  the  team.  The  day  passed  slowly;  the  only  distinguish- 
ing feature  being  the  fact  that  my  grades  were  all  extremely 
low.  My  bookkeeping  and  English  remained  untouched,  for  I 
could  not  concentrate  my  mind  upon  my  studies. 

"At  last  the  long  wished  for  signal  of  dismissal  rang,  and  I 
jaaade  my  way  to  the  gymnasium  dressing  room. 

"I  was  extremely  nervous,  for  this  one  thought  worried  me: 
Shall  I,  through  my  ignorance  of  the  game,  make  a  miserable 
failure? 

"  When  the  thought  of  a  possible  failure  came  to  my  mind,  it 
seemed  to  inspire  me  also  with  an  almost  fiendish  determination 
to  do  my  level  best,  and  prove  to  the  school  that  I  was  not 
1  yellow.' 

"Amid  the  jests  of  the  regular  players,  I  donned  my  foot-ball 
suit,  and  reported  to  the  coach.  He  immediately  placed  me 
at  left  end  on  the  scrub  team,  and  ordered  a  short  signal 
practice,  for  the  purpose  of  familiarizing  me  with  the  signals. 
Soon,  however,  he  ordered  the  regular  scrimmage,  after  telling 
me  to  remain  at  left  end. 

"I  was  thoroughly  determined  to  distinguish  myself  now, 
for  I  realized  that  this  was  the  crucial  test,  and  meant  either 
success  or  failure  to  me. 

"  So  with  this  thought  in  my  mind,  I  played  my  hardest  and 
best,  apparently  unconscious  of  everything  else  but  the  man 
with  the  ball.  My  efforts  were  crowned  with  success,  for  after 
making  several  daring  tackles,  I  drew  the  commendation  of 
the  coach. 

"  The  ball  was  soon  given  to  the  regular  team  and  line  plunges 
ordered.  After  several  successive  gains,  all  of  which  were  made 
through  left  guard,  I  determined  to  play  in  closer,  so  as  to 
back  him  up. 

"  As  I  had  fancied,  the  next  play  was  a  cross  buck  through  left 
guard,  but  owing  to  my  anticipation  of  this  play,  I  was  there  to 
stop  the  half  back,  after  he  had  emerged  from  a  large  hole  made 
in  our  line  by  the  opposing  guard. 

"The  half  back  with  head  low,  and  almost  doubled,  dashed 
at  full  speed  straight  for  me.     At  this  moment  the  realization 


NARRATION  158 

that  this  was  my  one  opportunity,  for  either  success  or  failure, 
forced  itself  upon  me. 

"  With  this  thought  in  my  mind,  I  dived  for  his  knees.  He 
seemed  to  realize  my  intention  though,  for  he  ducked  his  head 
still  lower,  and  ran  directly  toward  me. 

"  As  I  had  no  time  to  dodge,  his  head  struck  me  on  my  fore- 
head, and  I  dropped  to  the  ground  unconscious. 

"  After  being  revived  by  copious  showers  of  water,  I  continues 
playing.  That  night  after  practice,  the  coach  took  me  aside 
and  said:  'Come  out  every  night  this  week,  and  I  will  put 
you  in  the  game  Saturday/ 

"Saturday  I  was  in  my  old  position  at  left  end,  and  con- 
tinued to  remain  there  throughout  the  season." 


I oi.  Climax. — This  fundamental  intention  of  the  nar- 
ration is  often  called  climax.  Climax  in  a  narration  means 
especially  the  point  of  highest  interest,  toward  which  all 
preceding  events  tend.  The  climax  of  the  story  of  the 
adventure  in  a  barn,  just  cited,  would  be  the  escape  of  the 
two  boys.  The  climax  in  an  account  of  the  battle  of 
Waterloo  would  be  the  retreat  of  Napoleon.  The  climax 
of  Kipling's  "The  Man  Who  Would  Be  King"  is  Dravot's 
death.  A  narrative,  whether  of  fact  or  fiction,  almost 
always  fails  unless  it  has  some  such  definite  objective. 
Suppose  you  write  of  your  experiences  in  vacation.  You 
may  chronicle  day  after  day,  you  may  include  not  a 
single  striking  event,  and  still  be  interesting;  but  only  if 
your  account  possesses  some  definite  objective — some 
success  in  which  you  have  previously  failed,  some  achieve 
ment  gradually  led  up  to — which  ?  as  the  reader  reviews  youi 
account,  he  sees  to  have  been  always  the  goal  of  you. 
efforts.  Writing  a  narration,  telling  a  story,  without  this 
objective  point  is  like  playing  a  game  without  paying  any 
attention  to  the  score. 

102.  The  Logic  of  Events. — This  climax  determined, 
that  which  governs  the  choice  of  incident  is  really  to  a 


164  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

<rery  grea*  extent  logic.  The  logic  of  narration  is  not  pre* 
cisely  the  logic  of  argument;  but  it  is  almost  as  essential. 
In  a  sound  narrative,  one  incident  does  not  merely  follow 
another;  one  incident  causes  another.  This  relation  is 
true  of  life  itself.  What  you  do  to-day  is  the  result  of 
what  you  did  yesterday,  last  week,  ten  years  ago.  Only 
in  life  this  cause-and-effect  relation  of  incident  to  incident  is 
not  always  clear,  not  always  noticeable.  The  art  of  narra- 
tion is  to  make  it  clear.  Napoleon  retreated  at  Waterloo 
because  the  charge  of  the  Old  Guard  failed,  and  because 
Grouchy  failed  to  appear  on  time.  The  charge  of  the  Old 
Guard  failed  because  Napoleon,  looking  over  the  field,  did 
not  notice  the  sunken  road  of  Ohain;  Grouchy  failed  to 
appear  because 

"  For  want  of  a  nail,"  says  the  old  story,  u  the  shoe  was 
lost;  for  want  of  a  shoe,  the  horse  was  lost;  for  want  of 
a  horse,  the  rider  was  lost;  for  want  of  a  rider,  the  army 
was  lost;  for  want  of  an  army,  the  kingdom  was  lost — 
and  all  for  the  want  of  a  horse-shoe  naill"  The  inci- 
dents here  need  development,  perhaps;  but  the  chain  of 
causation  is  complete  and  admirably  illustrative.  In 
narratives  of  fact  you  select  incidents,  in  narratives  of 
fiction  you  invent  incidents,  which  lead  logically  and  step 
by  step  to  the  climax  of  your  story. 

103.  The  Introduction  of  Characters. — The  third 
problem  in  narration  was  thus  stated:  How  shall  you 
bring  in  your  characters?  By  "characters"  here  any 
person  (or  thing)  is  meant  with  whom  the  narration  is 
concerned — yourself,  Napoleon,  a  dog,  or  the  «*»eations  of 
your  imagination. 

Presenting  Characters  at  Beginning  of  Narrative. — Mr. 
Hilaire  Belloc,  in  a  recent  History  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution, begins  by  explaining  a  half-dozen  characters  who 
are  important  to  his  narrative — Mirabeau,  Danton,  Robes* 


NARRATION  155 

pierre,  and  others.  Having  roused  our  interest  in  them 
and  made  them  clear  to  us,  he  goes  on  to  tell  what  they 
did.  The  device  is  always  practicable,  though  seldom 
employed  on  so  large  a  scale.  A  paragraph  or  two  which 
presents  the  actors  may  precede  any  account  of  their 
doings. 

"Roger  and  I  drove  out  to  see  the  road-races  last  week, 
Roger  is  tall,  red-headed,  and  inclined  to  find  nearly  everything 
a  bore.  He  owns  a  car,  however,  and  is  generous  in  inviting 
people  to  use  it;  and  when  it  breaks  down,  instead  of  growing 
angry,  he  really  begins  to  enjoy  himself.  He  would  much  rather 
tinker  with  it,  I  believe,  than  drive  it.  I  am  just  the  other 
way;  lighthearted  and  enthusiastic,  fine  company  when  all 
goes  well,  and  ready  for  anything,  but  not  very  fond  of  Old 
Man  Trouble." 

Such  a  plan  makes  for  clearness.  Knowing  what  the 
actors  are,  the  reader  is  quicker  to  comprehend  what  they 
do.  All  the  important  characters  can  be  presented,  or,  if 
the  narrative  is  a  long  one,  as  new  characters  are  intro- 
duced in  the  progress  of  the  narrative,  they  can  each  be 
sketched  before  they  are  brought  into  the  action. 

Characters  Introduced  During  the  Progress  of  Narra* 
tive. — The  other  plan  is  to  set  characters  in  action  without 
special  comment,  and,  as  the  incidents  unroll,  add  whatever 
explanation  or  description  is  necessary.  This  is  the  com- 
moner way. 

"  Shot  at  from  behind  three  times  in  a  month,  and  yesterday 
stabbed  in  the  shoulder  by  an  unseen  assailant,  Guiseppe  Rossi 
knows  what  is  meant  by  the  '  vendetta.' 

"  Rossi,  who  is  a  fruit-peddler,  thirty-two  years  old,  living  at 
161  Sedgwick  Street,  was  standing  at  the  corner  of  Sedgwick  and 
Oak  Streets,  last  night  about  nine  o'clock,  thinking  about  the 
prick  of  bananas,  when  he  heard  a  rustle  of  footsteps  behind 
^flm-     Before  \.e  could  turn,  he  says,  he  felt  a  stinging  pain  in 


150  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

his  shoulder,  and  a  blow  -Hiich  upset  him  on  his  face.  He 
staggered  to  his  feet  again,  uat  no  one  was  near  him.  Rossi  is 
unusually  large  for  an  Italian,  and  has  something  of  a  reputation 
as  a  fighter;  hence  it  is  probable  his  assailant  concluded  dis- 
cretion was  the  better  part  of  valor,  etc." 

The  italicized  phrases  dealing  directly  with  character 
are  brought  in  where  needed. 

104.  Description  and  Exposition  in  Character  Pres- 
entation.— Both  description  and  exposition  may  be  thus 
employed  in  the  presentation  of  a  character — the  one  to 
make  the  character  seen,  the  other  to  make  it  under- 
stood. Running  comment,  of  the  sort  spoken  of  in  the 
preceding  paragraph,  should,  however,  whether  it  is  ex- 
pository or  descriptive,  usually  be  brief.  A  reader's  just 
demand  of  a  narration  is  that  it  should  keep  going,  and 
extended  discussion  of  characters  interrupts  and  halts  its 
progress.  Say  what  you  need  to  say  about  your  people, 
but  say  it  concisely. 

105.  Methods  of  Developing  Characters. — What  has 
just  been  stated  concerns  the  introduction  of  characters 
to  the  narration.  To  develop  those  characters,  besides 
straightforward  exposition  and  narration,  you  may  also 
employ  dialogue  and  narration  itself;  that  is  to  say,  you 
may  rouse  us  to  interest  and  knowledge  by  telling  us 
what  they  say  and  what  they  do.  As  for  the  last  point, 
development  of  character  by  narration,  it  needs  no  specia^ 
comment;  if  your  intention  in  narration  is  to  interest  us 
in  certain  characters,  as  in  biography  and  most  fiction, 
you  will,  as  suggested  on  page  151,  choose  your  incident 
accordingly. 

106.  The  Introduction  of  the  Setting. — How  shall 
you  bring  in  your  setting  ?  That  is  the  fourth  problem  »sf 
narration.     The  two  plans  are  those  suggested  for  th* 


NARRATION  157 

introduction  of  character — at  the  beginning,  and  through- 
out the  progress  of  the  narrative. 

Scene  Presented  at  the  Outset. — When  a  setting  is  either 
essential  to  the  story,  or  very  complicated,  or  both,  it  is 
often  elaborated  at  the  outset.  So  an  account  of  a  battle 
might  begin  with  a  description  of  the  battlefield,  an  advent- 
ure in  a  balloon  with  a  careful  explanation  of  the  balloon, 
or  a  mystery  story  with  an  account  of  the  house  in  which 
the  mystery  was  found.  Balzac  begins  a  famous  short 
story — "La  Grande  Breteche" — with  page  after  page  of 
description  of  an  empty  and  desolate  house,  in  which,  years 
before,  the  tragedy  took  place  of  which  he  means  to  tell. 
J.  M.  Barrie,  as  a  kind  of  preface  to  his  little  stories  of 
Scotch  life,  gives  an  elaborate  picture  of  the  village  of 
Thrums,  in  which  they  occur.  It  should  be  noted,  how- 
ever, that  a  long  preliminary  account  of  a  setting  presup- 
poses a  long  narrative.  Balzac's  three  pages  of  descrip- 
tion are  followed  by  eighteen  of  narration;  and  even  so, 
most  readers  wish  he  had  shortened  the  initial  presenta- 
tion of  his  scene. 

Scene  Presented  in  Progress  of  Narration. — This  again, 
as  in  the  presentation  of  character,  is  the  more  common 
plan.  A  line  or  two  here  and  there  as  needed  to  make 
the  action  understood — that  is  the  most  satisfactory  way. 
Again,  it  should  be  observed  that  brevity  in  such  presenta- 
tion is  desirable.  The  story  must  march,  whether  it  be  an 
account  of  how  you  climbed  a  hill  or  walked  in  a  pro- 
cession, or  the  tale  of  Vanity  Fair.  Over  solid  chunks 
of  exposition  and  description  it  cannot  march  easily:  it 
stumbles.  Be  clear  in  your  account  of  the  surroundings 
of  a  narration,  but  be  as  brief  as  is  consistent  with  clear- 
ness. 

107.  "  Setting  "  is  not "  Landscape." — Finally,  do  not 
confuse  the  setting  of  a  story  with  landscape  description, 


168  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

" scene"  with  "scenery."  Just  because  few  things  are 
easier  than  to  write  down  details  of  field  and  wood  and  sky, 
the  young  writer  indulges  himself  in  doing  so,  and  charges 
up  the  cost  to  "setting."  He  is  wrong.  "No  man," 
said  R.  L.  Stevenson,  "ever  spoke  of  scenery  for  above 
two  minutes  at  a  time,"  and  no  man  ever  read  a  page  of 
so-called  "description  of  a  landscape"  without  impatience. 
"Setting"  is  the  stage  of  your  narration — the  necessary 
topographical  details,  the  necessary  heat  and  cold,  the 
necessary  color,  sound,  and  smell.  "Scenery"  is  descrip- 
tion for  its  own  sake,  for  ornament.  A  skilful  narrator 
may  employ  it,  may  even  gain  by  its  employment.  To 
*he  unskilful  it  is  fatal. 

1 08.  The  Language  of  Narration. — Narration,  ap- 
pealing as  it  does  to  the  imagination  and  the  feelings,  and 
dealing  as  it  does  with  events,  must  move  more  rapidly 
than  exposition  and  argument.  Paragraphs  and  sentences 
in  good  narration  are  usually  somewhat  shorter  than  in 
exposition  and  argument,  and  verbs,  the  only  words  of 
movement,  are  of  great  importance. 

A  long  paragraph  promises  slow  progress  and  so  deters 
the  reader.  As  the  order  cf  narration  is  chronological, 
and  a  paragraph  may  properly  be  made  wherever  an 
incident  begins  or  changes,  the  process  of  paragraphing 
is  less  difficult  than  in  any  other  form  of  composition. 
The  advantage  of  comparatively  short  sentences  is  obvious. 
The  long  sentence  gathers  a  group  of  ideas  together;  the 
short  sentence  presents  one  after  another,  and  is,  there- 
fore, particularly  suited  to  the  handling  of  successive  in- 
cidents. It  should  be  noted,  however,  that  monotony 
of  sentence-length  and  form  is  as  depressing  in  narration 
as  anywhere. 

Incident  is  action;  and  verbs,  which  alone  express 
action,  are,  therefore,  obviously  of  importance  in  setting 


NARJRATION  159 

forth  incident.  The  active  voice,  moreover,  is  better  suited 
to  narration  than  the  passive.  "Ten  fish  were  caught. 
Our  rods  were  then  stowed  in  a  safe  place,  and  the  journey 
home  was  resumed,"  is  less  effective  than  "We  caught 
ten  fish,  stowed  away  our  rods  in  a  safe  place,  and  turned 
again  toward  home." 

109.  Dialogue. — Other  forms  of  composition  besides 
narration  may  be  carried  on  or  assisted  by  dialogue,  as,  for 
instance,  argumentation  as  in  Plato's  Dialogues,  or  ex- 
position in  Miss  Edgeworth's  Harry  and  Lucy.  But  dia- 
logue in  narration  occupies  a  peculiarly  important  place. 
It  serves  two  main  functions — to  advance  the  story  and  to 
exhibit  the  characters.     Ideal  dialogue  does  both  at  once. 

"I've  come  back,"  he  repeated,  "and  I  was  the  king  in 
Kafiristan — me  and  Dravot — crowned  kings  we  was  !  In  this 
office  we  settled  it — you  setting  there  and  giving  us  the  books. 
I  am  Peachey — Peachey  Taliaferro  Carnehan — and  you've  been 
setting  here  ever  since — O  Lord  I " 

I  was  more  than  a  little  astonished,  and  expressed  my  feel- 
ings accordingly. 

"It's  true,"  said  Carnehan,  with  a  dry  cackle,  nursing  his 
feet,  which  were  wrapped  in  rags.  "True  as  Gospel.  Kings 
we  were,  with  crowns  upon  our  heads — me  and  Dravot — poor 
Dan — oh,  poor,  poor  Dan,  that  would  never  take  advice,  not 
though  I  begged  of  him!" 

"Take  the  whisky,"  I  said,  "and  take  your  own  time.  .  .  , 
You  got  across  the  border  on  your  camels,  Dravot  dressed  as  a 
head  priest,  and  you  his  servant.     Do  you  remember  that?" 

"I  ain't  mad — yet,  but  I  will  be  that  way  soon.  Of  course 
I  remember.  Keep  looking  at  me,  or  maybe  my  words  will  go 
all  to  pieces.  .  .  .  We  left  with  that  caravan,  me  and  Dravot, 
playing  all  sorts  of  antics  to  amuse  the  people  we  were  with. 
Dravot  used  to  make  us  laugh  in  the  evenings  when  all  the 
people  was  cooking  their  dinners — cooking  their  dinners  and — 
what  did  they  do  then?  They  lit  little  fires  with  sparks  that 
went  into  Dravot's  beard,  and  we  all  laughed,  fit  to  die.  Little 
red  fires  they  was,  going  into  Dravot's  big  red  beard — so  funny." 
His  eyes  left  mine  and  he  smiled  foolishly. — Kipling.  The 
Man  Who  Would  Be  King, 


160  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

This  carries  forward  the  record  of  events,  and  at  the 
same  time  shows  plainly  in  what  sort  of  condition  Carne* 
han  has  returned.  Dialogue  may,  of  course,  be  used  as 
the  sole  medium  of  narration;  but  only,  as  a  rule,  when 
the  author's  interest  in  his  characters  is  greater  than  his 
interest  in  the  events  through  which  they  pass.  Its  ad- 
vantage is  obviously  in  its  dramatic  quality.  The  speech  of 
a  character  is  more  personal  and,  therefore,  more  vivid 
than  statements  about  a  character. 

no.  The  Composition  of  Dialogue. — Speech,  to  be 
effective,  must  be  in  harmony  with  the  character  who 
utters  it.  It  helps  to  form  the  reader's  conception  of  the 
character,  and  it  must  never  contradict  that  conception. 
George  Washington  must  talk  like  George  Washington,  a 
schoolboy  must  talk  like  a  schoolboy,  a  fairy  like  a  fairy. 
Perhaps  the  best  biography  ever  written  is  Boswell's  Life 
of  Samuel  Johnson.  Hundreds  of  Johnson's  speeches  for- 
ward the  narrative;  not  one  but  is  phrased  absolutely  in 
harmony  with  the  rest.  Kipling's  Mulvaney  talks  through 
twenty  stories,  and  never  uses  a  word  or  a  phrase  that 
does  not  seem  precisely  his  own.  Johnson's  speeches  are 
authentic,  Mulvaney's  all  invented,  but  the  quality  of 
harmony  exists  equally  in  both. 

Certain  principles  may  be  said  to  underlie  all  dialogue. 
It  is  in  short  sentences,  because  spoken  sentences  are 
likely  to  be  short.  It  dispenses  with  connectives  and  ex- 
planatory phrases,  because  in  speeches  we  supply  their 
places  by  the  inflections  of  the  voice.  But  the  only  way 
Jto  be  certain  of  writing  effective  dialogue,  whether  in  his- 
torical or  fictitious  narration,  is  to  be  possessed  of  both  a 
clear  and  exact  conception  of  the  character  who  is  being 
made  to  speak,  and  a  definite  knowledge  of  how  characters 
of  his  age,  education,  and  training  do  habitually  express 
themselves.  Both  are  necessary.  Readers  still  laugh  at 
Charlotte  Bronte  for  making  Lady  Blanche  in  Jane  Eyrfi 


NARRATION  161 

say  to  a  footman,  before  a  roomful  of  people,  "  Cease  that 
chatter,  blockhead  1  and  do  my  bidding  1"  Miss  BrontS 
knew  what  sort  of  person  she  meant  Lady  Blanche  to  be, 
but  she  did  not  know  how  persons  of  that  sort  habitually 
express  themselves.  On  the  other  hand,  you  may  know 
very  well  how  the  average  schoolboy  talks,  but  unless  you 
have  an  exact  conception  of  the  differences  between  the 
Tom  Smith  of  your  story  and  the  average  schoolboy,  you 
will  not  be  able  to  make  Tom  talk  effectively. 

in.  How  to  Introduce  Dialogue. — The  simplest  way 
is  by  prefacing  each  speech  with  he  said,  she  said,  Tom 
said,  said  Arthur.  But  this  grows  very  monotonous.  A 
variation  is  to  use  a  verb  which  expresses  the  tone  or  man- 
ner of  the  speech — he  exclaimed,  he  blurted  out,  he  whis- 
pered, she  stormed,  she  declared,  she  insisted,  she  wailed. 
Perhaps  the  best  way,  at  least  with  only  two  speakers,  is 
to  let  most  of  the  speeches  stand  without  introduction  or 
comment. 

► 
"  Are  you  going?  *  she  asked. 
"Yes." 

"  You  told  me  you  didn't  like  them." 

"I  don't,"  he  replied  truthfully,  "but  I  can't  get  out  of  go- 
ng all  the  same." 
"Why  can't  you?" 
"  I  promised  Ned  I  would." 
"Ned!     You  mean  you  promised  Sue." 
"  I  haveu't  seen  Sue  for  weeks." 
But  she  shook  her  head  in  unbelief. 

Of  course  in  any  employment  of  dialogue  the  strictest 
adherence  is  necessary  to  the  rules  for  paragraphing  and 
the  use  of  marks  of  quotation. 

H2.  The  Short  Story. — Everything  said  of  narration 
so  far,  applies  equally  to  historical  and  to  fictitious  narra- 
tion.     Any    elaborate   discussion   of    fictitious   narration 


i62  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

would  be  out  of  place  here.     But  one  or  two  points  may 
be  noted. 

113.  Form  of  the  Short  Story. — The  ordinary  short 
story  may  be  likened  to  a  steeple-chase.  It  begins  at  a 
definite  point,  and  ends  at  a  point  equally  definite,  and 
previously  determined,  and  between  these  two  points  are 
certain  obstacles  that  the  characters  must  be  got  over. 

Effectiveness  in  a  short  story  depends  on  the  variety 
of  those  obstacles  and  the  skill  with  which  they  are  sur- 
mounted, or  on  the  reader's  interest  in  the  characters,  or 
on  both.  You  see  a  jockey  riding,  and  if  he  must  take 
big  jumps  and  takes  them  well  he  interests  you;  you  see 
a  friend-  riding,  and  even  though  the  jumps  be  small  you 
watch  him  eagerly.  So  in  a  story;  if  the  obstacles,  tech- 
nically called  situations,  are  various  and  skilfully  got  by, 
you  will  forgive  some  dulness  in  the  characters;  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  you  have  been  made  to  know  and  delight  in 
the  characters,  you  will  follow  them  through  scenes  of  a 
less  striking  nature. 

114.  "  Situation  "  in  the  Story. — The  obstacles,  as  has 
just  been  said,  are  technically  called  situations.  "Plot,, 
is  a  series  of  situations  leading  up  to  a  climax.  To  illus- 
trate it  crudely:  Baron  Munchausen  is  chased  by  a  lion. 
That  is  the  first  situation.  He  runs  for  the  river,  and  as 
he  is  about  to  plunge  in,  is  confronted  by  a  crocodile. 
That  is  the  second  situation.  He  crouches;  the  lion  leaps 
over  him  and  into  the  jaws  of  the  crocodile,  and  they  de- 
stroy one  another.  That  is  the  climax.  Such  situations 
may  of  course  be  developed  to  whatever  extent  the  author 
thinks  best.  But  without  power  to  invent  fresh  situations, 
no  one  can  write  interesting  stories. 

115.  The  Relation  of  Situation  to  Climax. — The 
situations  must  not  only  be  interesting;  they  must  de- 
velop logically.     The  reader's  demand  is  twofold — that  the 


NAEEATION  163 

way  out  of  each  situation  and  up  to  the  next  k^ould  be 
unexpected,  and  yet  inevitable.  His  exclamation  must  be 
"I  didn't  see  before;  but  I  see  now!"  This  interweaving 
of  unexpectedness  and  inevitability  is  what  we  call  sus- 
pense; and  it  is  gratified  suspense  that  keeps  alight  the 
fire  of  interest  in  narration. 

1 1 6.  The  Relation  of  Situation  to  Character. — 
Situations  must  not  only  be  logical  in  their  relation  to 
climax,  but  also  logical  in  their  relation  to  character.  A 
good  story  hinges  the  outcome  of  its  situations  on  the  char- 
acters concerned  in  them.  You  and  I  are  not  alike;  put 
in  the  same  situation,  we  shall  act  differently,  and  so  bring 
about  different  further  situations. 

117.  Character  in  the  Short  Story. — The  question 
to  be  determined  first,  then,  is,  whose  story  shall  this  be  ? 
If  it  concerns  a  boy  and  a  girl,  chiefly  from  whose  point  of 
view  shall  it  be  told  ?  A  child  of  ten  has  stolen  half  a  dol- 
lar from  his  father's  bureau,  and  the  father,  unseen,  has 
been  a  witness.  The  father  himself  is  fighting  the  tempta- 
tion to  make  way  with  a  large  sum  from  the  bank  in  which 
he  is  employed.  Who  shall  be  the  chief  character  in  the 
story  as  you  tell  it?  Carnehan  is  the  narrator  of  Kip- 
ling's story,  The  Man  Who  Would  Be  King.  Suppose 
Kipling  had  chosen  that  Dravot  should  be  the  one  to  re- 
turn— what  effect  would  his  choice  have  had  upon  the 
development  of  the  situations  in  the  story? 

118.  Presentation  of  Character. — Because  one  char- 
acter is  dominant,  the  rest  do  not  become  insignificant. 
The  problem  is  with  all  characters — how  to  make  them 
vital.  They  may  be  described  and  explained  by  the 
author,  and  some  such  explanation  is  usually  necessary, 
but  properly  brief.  They  may  be  discussed  by  other 
characters  in  the  story,  a  device  of  which  all  novelists  are 
fond     They  may  reveal  themselves  in  speech;  and  finally, 


164  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

and  most  important,  they  may  reveal  themselves  In  action. 
It  is  by  their  deeds  that  we  really  know  them.  And  this 
brings  us  back  to  the  requirement  of  situation  as  the  most 
essential  single  element  of  the  successful  short  story. 


Exercises, 

Write,  following  the  strict  chronological  order,  a  brief 
account  suggested  by  one  of  the  following: 

1.  Getting  a  job  in  vacation. 

2.  Learning  how  to  camp. 

3.  My  first  entrance  into  society. 

4.  The  day  I  was  afraid. 

5.  My  introduction  to  chemistry. 

6.  How  I  won  my  athletic  emblem. 

7.  Just  an  ordinary  day  of  my  life. 

8.  An  experiment  in  physics. 

9.  Getting  interested  in  manual  training, 
10.  How  I  was  drowned. 

Write  a  long  paragraph  on  a  subject  suggested  by  one 
of  the  following.  Give  the  outcome  first,  then  the  de- 
tails: 

1.  An  automobile  accident- 

2.  Last  Saturday's  game. 

3.  The  class-president  is  expelled  for  hazing. 

4.  Buying  a  motor-cycle. 

5.  Pledging  day. 

6.  Finding  a  place  to  live  in. 

7.  He  didn't  know  it  was  loaded. 

8.  Losing  the  baby. 

Write  an  account  suggested  by  one  of  the  following, 
*j*ying  particularly  +c  keep  the  order  of  events  clear: 


NARRATION  165 

1.  The  battle  of  the  Cowpens. 

2.  Starting  a  school  paper. 

3.  The  day  of  a  football  manager, 

4.  Sherman's  march  to  the  sea« 

5.  The  glee-club  trip, 

6.  The  big  game. 

7.  The  regatta. 

8.  At  Valley  Forge. 

Selecting  a  subject  suggested  by  one  of  the  following, 
write  out  a  brief  clear  statement  of  (1)  what  you  intend 
your  narration  to  be  about,  (2)  what  its  climax  is  to  be, 
(3)  the  incidents  which  are  to  lead  to  the  climax: 

1.  One  day  last  year. 

2.  Fishing. 

3.  An  automobile  adventure. 

4.  Mountain-climbing. 

5.  Falling  in  love. 

6.  An  historical  incident. 

7.  Winning  a  race. 

8.  My  autobiography. 

Write  out  a  number  of  three-  or  four-line  sketches  of 
characters  to  be  introduced  at  the  beginning  of  the  fol- 
lowing short  narrations: 

1.  My  first  fight. 

2.  Sailing  with  Jane. 

3.  Going  to  the  Prom. 

4.  Electing  a  football  captain. 

5.  Harry  makes  good. 

6.  A  little  story  about  Lincoln. 

7.  The  first  day  in  camp. 

8.  Sister  goes  to  the  matine*e. 

9.  My  great  recitation. 

Write  a  narrative  on  one  of  the  following  subjects,  intro- 
ducing the  character  during  the  progress  of  the  narration: 


166  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

1.  How  I  came  to  know  my  chum. 

2.  Lee's  surrender  to  Grant. 

3.  When  I  was  elected. 

4.  Fishing  from  the  bridge. 

5.  The  ghost. 

6.  The  winning  touchdown. 

7.  Robin  Hood  at  Ashby. 

8.  My  first  experience  in  housekeeping. 

Write  a  brief  dialogue  in  accordance  with  one  of  the 
following  suggestions: 

1.  One  girl  persuades  another  to  run  for  an  office. 

2.  The  coach  and  the  captain  decide  who  shall  play  quarter- 
back. 

3.  The  Instructor  finally  gets  the  right  answer  from  a  boy 
who  "  knows  but  can't  express  it." 

4.  The  athlete  explains  to  a  young  woman,  sensible  but  igno- 
rant of  baseball,  what  happens  in  the  first  half-inning. 

5.  A  boy  talks  over  with  his  father  the  question  of  joining 
a  fraternity. 

6.  The  newspaper  reporter  interviews  the  new  mayor. 

The  following  situations  might  begin  and  end  short  sto- 
ries. How  would  you  develop  them,  and  what  situations 
can  you  devise  to  carry  on  th:  interest  between? 

1.  A  famous  runner  is  warned  that  his  heart  is  weak,  and 
stops  running.  .  .  .  Two  years  later  by  a  wild  dash  for  a  doctor 
he  saves  a  child's  life  and  discovers  that  his  heart  is  sound  again. 

2.  The  day  before  Christmas  a  transcontinental  train,  on  ac- 
count of  a  hot-box,  stops  at  a  lonely  siding  in  the  desert.  A 
little  girl  gets  off  to  pick  flowers  and  is  left  behind.  .  .  .  Christ- 
mas day  she  is  returned  to  safety  by  an  outlaw,  who  has  made  her 
believe  he  is  Santa  Claus.  He  is  shot  while  trying  to  make  his 
escape  again. 

3.  The  half-back  on  his  way  to  the  game  is  delayed  by  help- 
ing out  a  deaf  old  lady  who  has  lost  her  way.  •  .  •  She  turns 
out  to  be  the  rich  aunt  of  the  coach. 


NARRATION  107 

4.  A  successful  lawyer  goes  back  home,  after  tea  year**  ab- 
sence, to  find  his  white-haired  and  saintly  mother  determined  on 
a  separation  from  his  father.  The  lawyer  is  horrified.  .  .  .  After 
three  days  his  father's  quiet,  well-behaved,  implacable  selfishness 
so  works  upon  the  son  that  he  no  longer  opposes  the  separation. 

Whose  stories  are  each  of  the  preceding?  Tell  the 
second  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  little  girl;  from  the 
point  of  the  outlaw.  Tell  the  fourth  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  son;  the  mother.  Why  could  it  not  be  satis- 
factorily told  from  the  father's  point  of  view  ? 


SECTION  IX. 

Description. 

119.  What  Description  Is. — If  you  look  at  a  picture, 
or  listen  to  a  song,  or  sniff  a  perfume,  your  mind  may  be 
working  in  either  of  two  ways.  It  may  be  endeavoring 
to  discover  the  meaning  of  the  picture,  the  structure  of 
the  song,  the  identity  of  the  perfume;  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  may  only  be  registering  a  series  of  sense-impres- 
sions, pleasant  or  unpleasant,  which  in  turn  may  stimu- 
late the  memory  or  the  imagination  to  action.  Now,  in 
writing,  the  effort  to  set  the  mind  at  work  in  the  first  of 
these  ways,  to  make  it  comprehend,  is  called,  as  we  have 
seen,  Exposition;  the  effort  to  set  the  mind  at  work  in  the 
second  way,  to  make  it  feel,  is  called  Description.  The  real 
difference  between  exposition  and  description,  then,  is  in 
what  they  are  trying  to  accomplish. 

It  is  true  that  any  writing  dealing  with  individual  objects 
is  often  called  description,  and  exposition  is  limited  to 
writing  which  deals  with  qualities,  or  with  objects  consid- 
ered only  as  a  member  of  a  class,  (See  page  110.)  Thus,  for 
example,  if  you  were  writing  of  robins,  and  put  in  details 
which  were  true  of  all  robins,  or  of  robins  in  general,  you 
would  be  writing  exposition;  but  if  you  confined  yourself 
to  such  details  as  were  characteristic  of  only  one  particu- 
lar robin  of  your  acquaintance,  your  work  would  be  de- 
scription. In  this  sense  the  following  account  of  a  Greek 
vase  is  description: 

ATHENA  AND  HERAKLES  CONDUCTING  CHARIOT. 

In  the  background  three  Doric  columns,  standing  for  a  ten* 
pie.     Before  it  chariot  driven  by  Athena,  who  holds  goad  and 

168 


DESCRIPTION  169 

reins,  wears  helmet,  aegis,  chiton,  and  himation,  and  steps  with 
one  foot  lr -  Me  chariot.  Of  the  two  horses,  four  hindlegs  and 
three  forelegs  are  visible;  one  turns  his  face  to  the  spectator. 
Beside  (beyond)  the  horses  walk  two  figures,  a  bearded  man 
clad  in  a  long  white  chiton,  whose  mouth  is  open,  and  a  man  of 
whom  there  only  remain  the  legs  and  the  top  of  the  head;  facing 
the  horses,  between  them,  is  a  warrior  wearing  greaves  and  white 
cuirass,  sword  girt  round  him,  his  head  hidden  by  near  horse. 
Beyond  the  chariot  of  Athena  is  a  horse,  his  nose  enclosed  with 
straps,  one  foreleg  visible.  Beside  (in  front)  the  chariot  is  Her- 
akles,  moving  to  right,  clad  in  chiton  and  lion's  skin,  quiver  at 
shoulder  and  sword  at  waist,  who  turns  round  and  holds  with 
both  hands  bridle  of  horse  who  comes  in  from  the  left. 

But  fundamentally  descriptive,  in  any  sense  that  fits  our 
feelings,  such  an  account  is  not.  It  explains  the  vase;  it 
does  not  rouse  our  senses  to  appreciation.  Compare  i* 
with  Keats's  lines,  On  a  Grecian  Urn: 

Thou  still  unravish'd  bride  of  quietness, 

Thou  foster-child  of  silence  and  slow  time, 
Sylvan  historian,  who  canst  thus  express 

A  flowery  tale  more  sweetly  than  our  rhyme* 
What  leaf-fring'd  legend  haunts  about  thy  shape 

Of  deities  or  mortals,  or  of  both, 
In  Tempe  or  the  dales  of  Arcady? 
What  men  or  gods  are  these?     What  maidens  loth? 

What  mad  pursuit?     What  struggle  to  escape? 
What  pipes  and  timbrels?     What  wild  ecstasy** 

Who  are  these  coming  to  the  sacrifice? 

To  what  green  altar,  O  mysterious  priest, 
Lead'st  thou  that  heifer  lowing  at  the  skies, 

And  all  her  silken  flanks  with  garlands  drestf 
What  little  town  by  river  or  sea  shore, 

Or  mountain-built  with  peaceful  citadel, 
Is  emptied  of  this  folk,  this  pious  morn? 
And,  little  town,  thy  streets  for  evermore 

Will  silent  be;  and  not  a  soul  to  tell 
Why  thou  art  desolate,  can  e'er  return- 


170  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

O  Attic  shape!    Fair  attitude!  with  brede 

Of  marble  men  and  maidens  overwrought, 
With  forest  branches  and  the  trodden  weed; 

Thou,  silent  form,  dost  tease  us  out  of  thought 
As  doth  eternity:  Cold  Pastoral! 

When  old  age  shall  this  generation  waste, 
Thou  shalt  remain,  in  midst  of  other  woe 
Than  ours,  a  friend  to  man,  to  whom  thou  say'st, 

"Beauty  is  truth,  truth  beauty/ ' — that  is  all, 
Ye  know  on  earth,  and  all  ye  need  to  know. 

This  is  true  description  addressed  to  the  feelings.  The 
exact  vase  of  Keats's  imagination  has  never  been  identi- 
fied, but  thousands  have  seen  it  vivid  in  their  imagination. 
The  first  passage  makes  you  try  to  construct  the  vase  in 
your  mind;  the  second  merely  rouses  certain  sensations, 
not  necessarily  in  any  logical  sequence — memories,  hopes, 
sounds,  visions.  The  attitude  of  your  mind,  as  you  read 
one  passage  and  then  the  other,  inevitably  changes. 

This  fundamental  fact  anyone  who  really  wishes  to 
write  description  must  remember.  Suppose  someone  asks 
you  to  tell  him  what  your  own  room  is  like.  Your  first 
impulse  is  to  give  its  size,  and  name  the  articles  in  it  as  if 
you  were  cataloguing  them  for  collections  in  a  museum. 
This  is  all  very  well,  if  you  are  writing  to  your  mother,  or 
some  friend  who  wishes  to  understand  just  what  are  the 
conditions  of  your  abiding  place;  but  it  is  not  effective  de- 
scription. 

"My  room  is  small,  but  sunny,  looking  south  and  west 
over  the  Plaisance.  I  have  a  few  pictures,  a  few  cushions; 
plenty  of  furniture,  more  than  plenty  of  books  (I  don't 
know  where  to  put  them) ;  on  the  east  wall,  against  the 
background  of  the  green  cartridge  paper,  my  plaster  rep- 
lica of  the  sophisticated  Venus  of  the  Louvre.  Do  you 
remember  when  we  saw  her  together  and  I  bought  my 
copy  ?    And  I  have  a  window  seat,  green  also,  from  which 


DESCRIPTION  171 

I  can  see  the  bustle  of  the  rich  (in  chaises)  and  the  poor 
(on  foot)  to  and  from  the  park.  I  wish  I  might  see  you 
among  theml"  This,  in  the  true  sense,  is  an  attempt  at 
description. 

120.  Getting  the  Descriptive  Effect. — How  is  this 
descriptive  effect,  this  appeal  to  the  mind  by  a  series  of 
images  rather  than  by  the  process  called  thought,  secured  ? 
Let  us  examine. 

In  great  part,  the  interest  of  description  is  in  that  which 
is  appreciable  by  the  senses — in  sounds,  tastes,  odors, 
colors,  shapes,  sizes,  textures,  heat,  cold,  movement. 
Movement,  of  all  these,  is  perhaps  the  most  important  in 
fixing  the  reader's  attention.  In  the  world  of  sight,  what 
always  catches  the  eye?  Movement.  A  bird  stirs  in  a 
tree,  a  fish  jumps  in  a  placid  lake,  a  color  changes  in  the 
sky — and  we  see  them.  So  by  a  somewhat  loose  analogy 
movement  in  description  may  be  said  to  catch  the  imagi- 
nation and  lead  it  where  the  writer  wishes. 

121.  Description  not  "  Word-Painting." — This  im- 
portant fact  is  often  blurred  in  the  writer's  mind  because  he 
has  been  told  that  description  is  word-painting.  Few  terms 
could  be  more  misleading.  Painting  is  static;  it  has  no 
motion.  Words  move  on  constantly;  ideas  must  follow 
one  another,  they  cannot  proceed  simultaneously.  More- 
over, painting  appeals  to  the  mind  through  the  eye  only; 
description  appeals  through  every  sense.  Not  a  large  pro- 
portion of  people  are  "visual-minded,"  as  the  psycholo- 
gists call  it.  Many  of  us  have  no  power  at  all  to  "see" 
things  in  our  brain.  With  many,  really  vivid  sensations 
are  roused  only  by  sounds,  smells,  tastes.  Here  are  three 
details  descriptive  of  a  woman: 

"Her  face  was  like  old  ivory,  but  finely  wrinkled;  her  voice 
was  very  thin  but  clear,  as  if  a  little  bell  were  ringing  far  away; 
a  faint  fragrance,  an  old-fashioned  fragrance,  of  orris-root  per- 
haps, or  marjoram,  hung  about  her." 


172  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

Which  of  the  three  is  by  you  most  easily  realized? 

"  I  have  the  feel  of  the  oar  in  my  hand,  the  vision  of  a  scorch- 
ing blue  sea  in  my  eyes.  And  I  see  a  bay,  a  wide  bay,  smooth 
as  glass  and  polished  like  ice,  shimmering  in  the  dark.  A  red 
light  burns  far  off  upon  the  gloom  of  the  land,  and  the  night  is 
soft  and  warm.  We  drag  at  the  oars  with  aching  arms,  and 
suddenly  a  puff  of  wind,  a  puff  faint  and  tepid  and  laden  with 
strange  odors  of  blossoms,  of  aromatic  wood,  comes  out  of  the 
still  night* — the  first  sigh  of  the  East  on  my  face.  That  I  can 
never  forget." — Joseph  Conrad. 

Very  little  of  this  is  addressed  to  the  eye.  Heat,  weari- 
ness, a  sudden  fragrance — the  eye  has  nothing  to  do  with 
them.  Good  description  is  not  painting,  then;  it  deals 
with  what  painting  cannot  handle. 

122.  Specification  in  Description. — Anything  that 
stirs  the  imagination  may  find  a  place  in  description. 
But  what  stirs  the  imagination?  Specific  details,  always. 
By  the  word  "vegetable"  few  of  us  are  inspired  to  any 
vision  or  feeling.  But  "cabbage,"  "tomato,"  "pump- 
kin," set  definite  images  before  us,  compounded  of  size, 
shape,  color,  taste,  and  smell.  These  images  are  the  re- 
sult not  of  the  words  only,  but  of  the  fact  that  our  memo- 
ries are  always  of  specific  things,  and  the  memory  is  roused 
to  activity,  therefore,  only  by  specific  mention.  We  recol- 
lect not  the  quality  of  "goodness"  of  a  friend,  but  specific 
examples  of  his  goodness — kindnesses  he  performed;  or 
specific  outward  evidence  of  his  goodness — his  clear  eye, 
his  sympathetic  laughter,  the  tone  of  his  voice.  And  our 
imagination,  because  it  is  really  only  another  form  of  our 
memory,  is  also,  therefore,  stimulated  only  by  the  mention 
of  such  specific  things. 

Observe:  it  is  not  the  thing  itself,  but  our  associations 
with  it  that  are  of  importance  to  our  imagination.  De- 
scribe a  girl  as  having  red  cheeks  and  white  teeth;   you 


DESCRIPTION  173 

produce  a  not  disagreeable  impression  on  your  readers 
But  suppose  you  describe  her,  as  a  Malay  girl  once  de 
scribed  an  Englishwoman,  as  having  "teeth  white  like  & 
dog's,  and  cheeks  as  red  as  the  cabbage-flower/'  and  wha* 
is  your  effect?  Just  the  reverse  of  agreeable,  although 
the  two  details,  red  cheeks,  white  teeth,  remain  as  they 
were.  The  unpleasant  associations  connected  with  dog 
and  cabbage  have  wiped  out  the  pleasant  associations  of 
red  and  white.  Charles  Lamb,  in  his  essay  "On  the 
Danger  of  Confounding  Moral  with  Physical  Deformity," 
gives  the  two  following  descriptions  of  the  same  man: 

(1)  "  He  has  a  stoop  in  his  gait,  coarse  red  hair,  nose  short  and 
cooked  up,  little  gray  eyes,  and  a  pot-belly;  speaks  with  a  thick 
disagreeable  voice;  had  on  when  he  went  away  a  greasy  shag 
great-coat  with  rusty  yellow  buttons." 

(2)  "Leans  a  little  forward  in  his  walk;  his  hair  thick  and  in- 
clining to  auburn;  his  nose  of  the  middle  size,  a  little  turned  up; 
lively  hazel  eyes;  inclines  to  be  corpulent;  his  voice  not  clear; 
had  on  a  shag  great-coat  with  yellow  buttons." 

Compare  the  two  and  see  how  in  the  second,  by  using 
words  with  pleasanter  associations  to  most  of  us,  Lamb 
has  succeeded,  without  altering  a  fact,  in  changing  our 
whole  impression  of  the  man. 

Description  in  its  fullest  sense,  therefore,  is  an  appeal 
to  the  imagination  of  the  reader  through  his  memory — 
memory  of  what  he  has  seen,  heard,  felt,  read,  and  ex- 
perienced. It  gains  its  end  by  pointing  out  specifically 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  whatever  its  subject  may 
be.  If  your  desire  is  to  make  me  understand  the  appear- 
ance of,  say,  an  ordinary  bull-dog,  you  will  set  forth 
the  general  features  of  the  animal — square  muzzle,  heavy 
shoulders,  short  hair,  and  so  on.  But  if  you  wish  to  de- 
scribe to  me  your  dog — L  e.,  to  make  me  realize  that  one 


174  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

animal  as  an  individual  thing — you  will  take  for  granted 
all  the  general  bull-dog  features,  and  concentrate  upon 
the  peculiar  matters — odd  markings,  one  ear  partly  gone, 
a  limp  in  the  left  front  foot,  a  shallow  back — that  distin- 
guish him  from  all  other  bull-dogs.  And  just  so  far  as 
the  peculiar  details  you  hit  upon  appeal  to  my  imagination, 
rouse  in  my  mind  images,  just  so  far  you  will  have  succeeded 
in  being  descriptive. 

123.  Organization  of  Descriptive  Writing. — The 
absolute  essential  of  sound  exposition  or  argument  is  clear 
thinking.  No  such  prerequisite  exists  to  good  description; 
one  great  reason  perhaps  why  young  people,  averse  to 
the  effort  of  thought,  "like  to  write  descriptions,,;  one 
reason,  too,  why  children  should  be  encouraged  to  write 
them.  The  definite  division,  the  obvious  organization  of 
expository  work  is  even  to  some  extent  out  of  place  in  de- 
scription. Yet  description  has  an  organization  of  its  own; 
and  no  large  effect  can  be  secured  without  adherence  to  it. 

124.  The  Point  of  View. — In  the  first  place,  one  who 
writes  description  must  have  a  'point  of  view;  and  if  the 
point  of  view  is  changed,  definite  notice  of  the  change  must 
be  given  to  the  reader.  Describing  what  you  hear  and 
see  from  a  mountain-top,  you  may  not  include  the  anemones 
of  the  distant  forest,  nor  the  chirping  of  the  birds  above 
them.  This  is  obvious.  But  your  point  of  view  may  be 
emotional,  not  topographical.  If  you  dislike  a  girl  of 
your  acquaintance  you  will  so  describe  her,  even  while 
sticking  to  the  truth  in  details,  as  to  give  an  unpleasant 
impression.  A  month  later,  when  you  have  come  to  like 
her  immensely,  you  will  describe  her  in  terms  far  more 
agreeable.  Your  first  point  of  view  will  have  been  dislike; 
vour  second  liking,    Tennyson,   in  his  poem  Mariana, 

Ascribes  her  home  as  she  saw  it,  from  the  point  of  view 
f  gloom,  despair,  and  desolation:  * 


DESCRIPTION  175 

"Upon  the  middle  of  the  night 
"Waking  she  heard  the  night-fowl  crow; 

The  cock  sung  out  an  hour  ere  light; 
From  the  dark  fen  the  oxen's  low 

Came  to  her;  without  hope  of  change 
In  sleep  she  seemed  to  walk  forlorn, 
Till  cold  winds  woke  the  grey-eyed  morn 

About  the  lonely  moated  grange.  .  •  • 

"About  a  stone-cast  from  the  wall 
A  sluice  with  blackened  waters  slept, 

And  o'er  it  many,  round  and  small 
The  clustered  marish-mosses  crept. 

Hard  by  a  poplar  shook  alway, 
All  silver-green  with  gnarled  bark; 
For  leagues  no  other  tree  did  mark 

The  level  waste,  the  rounding  grey  .  •  • 

"All  day  within  the  dreamy  house 
The  doors  upon  their  hinges  creaked; 

The  blue  fly  sung  in  the  pane;  the  mouse 
Behind  the  mouldering  wainscot  shrieked 

Or  from  the  crevice  peered  about.  •  •  •" 

Now  suppose  one  writes: 

"She  waked  now  and  then,  heard  for  a  moment  the  com- 
fortable crowing  of  a  distant  rooster  and  the  sound  of  cattle 
stirring  in  the  fields  near  by,  then  slept  again  until  the  breeze 
brought  in  the  soft  gray  day.  She  rose  and  looked  from  her 
window.  She  saw  a  dark  pool,  edged  with  little  mosses,  and 
shaded  by  a  single  silver  poplar,  waving  and  whispering;  be- 
yond,  the  gentle  level  fields.  The  house  was  very  quiet.  A 
door  rattled  at  intervals;  a  fly  hummed  gayly  at  the  window; 
once  a  mouse  rustled  behind  the  wainscot,  and  then,  stealing 
out,  stared  at  her  with  its  bright  eyes." 

The  point  of  view  here  is  peace;  and  the  same  scene 
is  rendered,  therefore,  in  quite  another  tone.  It  will  be 
seen  tnat  this  emotional  point  of  view  is  behind  such  de- 


176  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

scriptions  as  those  quoted  from  Lamb  (page  173),  and  what 
it  does  is  to  determine  the  choice  of  the  writer's  material. 

125.  Narration  and  Description. — The  point  of  view 
determined,  how  shall  the  details  of  the  description  be 
put  together?  One  highly  useful  plan  is  to  make  use  of 
narration.  This  may  be  done  in  two  ways.  You  who 
write  may  pass  on,  describing  as  you  go ;  or  that  which  you 
describe  may  pass  by  you.  You  walk  down  to  the  lake,  and 
stand  upon  the  shore. 

"The  park  was  crowded,  mostly  it  seemed  with  children. 
The  grass  was  very  green,  the  lilacs  very  sweet.  May  is  a 
pleasant  month.  As  I  crossed  the  bridge,  the  row-boats  scooted 
under  like  water-spiders;  away  south  I  had  a  glimpse  of  the 
golf-links,  and,  between  us,  the  island  where  the  ninth  hole  used 
to  be  (I  have  played  it,  with  two  friends,  at  three-forty  in  the 
morning).  Beyond  the  bridge,  past  the  squatty  little  life-saving 
station,  past  the  ginger-bread  German  building — dodge  a  big 
red  car  with  a  superior  negro  at  the  wheel,  cross  thirty  feet 
of  cobble  stones,  and  here  is  the  blue-striped  lake!" 

So  far  the  movement  is  of  the  writer.  In  the  next  para- 
graph it  is  of  the  things  described. 

"Away  out  yonder  is  the  crib,  a  rusty  black  spot.  The  sun 
glimmers  on  something  beside  it — the  wing  of  a  gull?  Not 
possible;  too  far  away.  Is  anybody  sailing  so  early  in  the  year? 
The  glimmer  grows  to  a  white  gleam.  Here  she  comes,  a  speck, 
a  patch,  a  boat  finally,  lifting  in  over  the  choppy  rustling  waves. 
A  catboat — a  catboat  on  Lake  Michigan!  The  sun  yellow  above 
her,  the  water  under  her  blue-and-green,  and  green-and-blue 
streaked  as  the  wind  strikes  it  and  the  sand-bars  lie — no  wonder 
she  dances  as  she  comes!  If  she  were  mine — if  I  were  on  her 
now!" 

In  one  sense,  as  said,  these  paragraphs  are  narrative. 
But  their  movement  is  really  only  the  almost  essential 


DESCRIPTION  177 

onward  movement  of  all  language;  and  their  effort  is  truly 
to  describe,  not  to  tell  a  story. 

126.  Topographical  Organization. — It  is,  of  course, 
obvious  that  description,  dealing  as  so  many  of  its  details 
do,  with  material  objects,  can  often  be  organized  topograph- 
ically. Anything  seen  can  be  presented  in  a  spatial  order. 
A  man  can  be  described  from  head  to  foot — hair,  eyes, 
nose,  mouth,  chin,  shoulders,  waist,  legs,  feet;  a  picture' 
from  back  to  front — background,  middle  distances,  fore- 
ground— and  from  right  to  left — right  background,  left 
background,  etc.;  a  house  by  roof,  walls,  doors,  windows. 
Often  the  plan  is  a  good  one,  often  it  is  not.  It  is  not  a 
good  plan  if  the  emotional  point  of  view  conflicts  seriously 
with  it,  or  if  the  device  of  narration  conflicts.  It  is  a  good 
plan  when  something  large,  with  many  details,  is  to  be 
presented.  Often  in  such  a  case  it  is  best  to  give  various 
details  in  some  definite  topographical  order,  either  pre- 
ceding them  or  following  them  with  a  treatment  of  the 
general  impression  made,  as  a  whole,  by  that  which  is 
described.    Note  the  following: 

"  She  stood  at  the  head  of  a  deep  green  valley,  carved  from  out 
the  mountains  in  a  perfect  oval,  with  a  fence  of  sheer  rock  standing 
round  it,  eighty  feet  or  a  hundred  high;  from  whose  brink  black 
wooded  hills  swept  up  to  the  sky-line.  By  her  side  a  little  river 
glided  out  from  underground  with  a  soft  dark  babble,  unawares 
of  daylight;  then,  growing  brighter,  lapsed  away,  and  fell  into 
tne  valley.  There,  as  it  ran  down  the  meadow,  alders  stood  on 
either  marge,  and  grass  was  blading  out  upon  it,  and  yellow  tufts 
of  rushes  gathered,  looking  at  the  hurry.  But  further  down, 
on  either  bank,  were  covered  houses,  built  of  stone,  square  and 
roughly  cornered,  set  as  if  the  brook  were  meant  to  be  the  street 
between  them.  Only  one  room  high  they  were,  and  not  placed 
opposite  each  other,  but  in  and  out,  as  skittles  are,'  only  that 
the  first  of  all,  which  proved  to  be  the  captain's,  was  a  sort  of 
double  house,  or  rather  two  houses  joined  together  by  a  plank* 
bridge  over  the  river.' ' — Blackmore,  Lorna  Doone. 


178  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

This  fundamental  image,  as  it  has  been  called,  unites  the 
various  details  into  a  whole  and  makes  for  clearness. 

127.  The  Language  of  Description. — When  the  im- 
portance to  description  of  specific  detail  was  pointed  out, 
the  inference  was  plain  that  specific  words  must  be  used. 
But  it  is  further  true  that  description  depends  for  much  of 
its  effectiveness  on  the  use  of  few  words,  and  rapid  sen- 
tences. Conciseness  is  essential  in  all  forms  of  composi- 
tion. But  in  exposition  and  argument,  where  we  are 
dealing  with  ideas,  something  will  be  forgiven  if  we  grow 
wordy,  because  we  are  striving  to  make  matters  perfectly 
clear.  In  description,  nothing  like  wordiness  will  be  for- 
given, because,  though  we  must  be  clear,  we  must  first  of 
all  be  interesting.  Our  whole  appeal  being  to  the  imagi- 
nation, stimulation  must  be  the  watchword.  Many  details, 
but  few  words,  carefully  related,  in  presenting  each  detail, 
are  necessary. 

First  to  go  should  be  adjectives  and  adverbs.  A  ter- 
ribly bad  habit  of  young  writers  is  to  supply  one  adjec- 
tive with  every  noun,  one  adverb  with  every  verb.  Even 
a  worse  habit  is  to  pile  up  adjectives  or  adverbs.  "A 
heavy  wind  blew  strongly  through  the  tossing  trees,"  writes 
Jones  complacently.  What  he  means  is  "A  wind  tossed 
the  trees  about."  Make  every  adjective  and  adverb  prove 
its  right  to  be  there.  You  can  do  this  in  a  very  simple 
way — see  if  you  can  so  change  the  sentence  as  to  keep 
your  whole  meaning  without  using  the  adjectives  and 
adverbs.  This  will  require  the  most  careful  selection  of 
nouns  and  verbs;  and  to  this  careful  selection  is  precisely 
what  the  writer  of  effective  description  always  comes. 

But  do  not  be  misled  by  this  advice,  or  by  reading  the 
magazines,  into  coining  nouns  and  verbs  for  yourself,  or 
even  into  using  very  strange  and  striking  ones.  Such 
phrases  as  "The  bear  whoo-whooshed  gruntingly  along  the 


DESCRIPTION  179 

path,"  or  *'He  slithered  down  the  bank  and  stumped  rapidly 
away,"  may  catch  the  eye  of  an  occasional  editor,  but  they 
have  on  people  in  general  the  effect  of  a  yellow  waistcoat 
covered  with  red  stars.  They  stimulate  the  imagination, 
but  at  the  expense  of  the  writer's  reputation. 

128.  Summary. — Finally,  then,  when  you  wish  to  de- 
scribe (1)  appeal  to  the  imagination  through  the  memory 
by  the  use  of  specific  detail,  (2)  stick  to  a  point  of  view,  or 
give  your  reader  notice  when  you  change  it,  (3)  do  not 
shrink  from  employing  narration  to  help  out  your  descrip- 
tion, (4)  order  your  details  topographically  if  you  can  find 
no  better  way,  (5)  use  as  few  words  as  possible  in  present- 
ing each  detail,  and  those  chiefly  nouns  and  verbs*  And 
let  your  description  be  short.  The  imagination,  except 
when  exercised  upon  events,  is  easily  wearied 

Exerciser 

The  details  suggested  below  would,  if  given,  serve  to 
make  a  reader  understand  what  is  presented.  Select  and 
specify,  in  short  descriptions  that  will  make  the  reader  feeL 
Have  a  definite  point  of  view. 

1.  The  library; 

Door — height,  shape,  sound 
Windows — height,  shape,  position,  color 
Furniture — shape,  position,  color. 
Books — position,  color,  size* 
Readers — number,  attitude,  costume. 

General — rustling  paper,  waving  pencils,  breathing,  sunlight* 
freshman,  graduate,  bad  air,  temperature. 

2.  A  street  crowd: 

The  place — narrow,  high  buildings,  gray  sky„  mud>  street- 
cars, pigeons,  fruit-stands,  smoke,  wagons. 

The  people — color,  movement,  noise;  individuals — peddlers, 
Scotch  banker,  a  man  with  a  green  cane,  eight  hundred  clerks,       ? 


180  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

woman  with  three  babies,  motormen,  young  girls,  actresses, 
newspaper  boys. 

General — noise,  of  cars,  pigeons,  footfalls,  wind,  street-cries, 
whistles,  color  of  buildings,  roadway,  mass  of  people,  fruit, 
hats,  street-cars,  sunlight;  smell  and  flavor  of  mud,  smoke, 
restaurants,  wagonload  of  coffee,  cigars,  temperature,  wind, 
general  feeling  of  hurry. 

3.  Between  innings. 

Field — grandstands,  grass,  fence,  diamond. 

Crowd — noise,  movement,  color;  costume,  talk,  attitude, 
variety. 

Players — movement,  color;  peculiarities  of  walk,  of  appear* 
ance. 

4.  The  old  swimming  hole. 

Water— cold?  warm?  clear?  shallow?  deep?  brown?  bright? 
rapid?  slow?  near?  far?  allowed?  forbidden?  bottom?  smooth? 
rocky?  fish  in  it? 

Banks — high?  low?  grassy?  sandy?  stony?  muddy?  slip- 
pery? bare?  shaded?  lonely?  frequented?  green?  dark?  red? 
good  for  diving?  good  for  lying  in  sun? 

Surroundings — fields?  woods?  road?  bridge?  village?  town? 
birds?  cattle? 

Swimmers — small?  all  ages?  rough?  daring?  truant?  bash- 
ful? tricky?  Any  one  ever  drowned? 

Write  two  short  paragraphs  upon  each  of  the  following 
subjectSo  In  the  first,  explain  (make  the  reader  under- 
stand); in  the  second,  describe  (make  the  reader  feel): 

1.  Myself. 

2.  A  classmate. 

3.  A  classroom  during  recitation. 

4.  The  house  I  know  best. 

So  The  girl  I  walked  to  school  withe 

6.  The  football  field. 

7.  An  automobile. 

8.  The  last  race  I  saw. 

9.  The  loneliest  road. 

10.  My  first  aeroplane. 

11.  A  bird's-eye  view. 

12.  When  the  game  was  won  In  the  ninth 


DESCRIPTION  181 


Describe  by  details  of  color,  movement,  and  sound  only* 
the  following^ 


I.  Sunset  on  a  crowded  street* 

2c  The  laboratory, 

3.  When  class  is  dismissed. 

4.  Just  before  the  touchdown. 

5.  Ploughing  on  a  hot  day. 

Describe  by  details  of  movement,  odor,  and  flavor  oriiy, 
the  following: 

1.  When  the  bell  rings  for  dinner 

2.  The  rosebush. 

3.  The  corner  grocery. 

4.  Pancakes. 

5.  The  woods  at  noon. 

Describe  each  of  the  following  from  two  points  of  view* 
Use  details  of  movement,  sound,  etc.,  as  well  as  of  sight: 

1.  The  river  I  know  best  (from  a  bank,  early  in  the  morning j 
from  a  boat  in  midstream,  at  noon  of  a  hot  day). 

2.  My  small  sister  (when  she  behaves  well;  when  she  behaves 
badly). 

3.  The  crowded  street  (from  a  restaurant  window;  from  a 
high  building), 

4.  The  view  from  your  window  (when  you  are  feeling  gay; 
when  you  are  feeling  gloomy). 

5.  The  hundred-yard  dash  (from  the  finish  I    from  the  gym- 
nasium window,  a  long  way  off). 

Describe  by  the  narrative  method  the  following; 

1.  Coming  into  the  city  by  train. 

2.  The  mountain-side,, 

3.  The  captain  comes  to  bat  and  strikes  out* 

4.  Through  the  canyon,, 
5o  The  union  station. 


182  ESSENTIALS  OF  COMPOSITION 

6.  Italian  section-hands* 

7.  The  fight. 

8.  Along  State  Street. 

Describe,  first  by  general  effect  and  then  by  support- 
ing details,  the  following: 

1.  The  biggest  house  in  town  (enormous,  and  yet  comfortable 
as  if  it  had  grown  there.  Shape;  color,  relation  to  the  lay  of 
the  land:    peculiar  details  of  architecture). 

2.  The  village  1  was  born  in.  (It  lies  along  the  curve  of  the 
river,  like  a  very  broad  S.  School-house  at  one  end;  railroad 
bridge  in  middle;  house  where  I  was  born  at  other  end.  Other 
details  relate  to  these.) 

3.  Our  dormitory, 

4.  My  favorite  tree. 

5.  A  little  lake, 

6.  The  doctor. 

7    Where  I  first  went  to  tohoot 


INDEX 


Absolute  construction,  66. 

Accordingly,  53. 

Again,  40. 

Also,  46. 

Ambiguous  reference,  49. 

American  Library  Association 
Index,  6. 

Analogy,  132. 

"And  which  construction, w  51. 

Apostrophe,  The,  105  /. 

Arguing  a  term,  121  /. 

Argument,  The,  133;  preparation 
of,  133;  introduction  of,  134/.; 
process  of,  135/.;  conclusion 
of,  139. 

Arrangement  of  material  in  para- 
graph, 37;  securing  emphasis 
by,  38;  of  sentence,  44  ff.', 
fundamental  rule  of,  45; 
sentence-order,  97  /. 

Article,  The,  56. 

Associations,  Effect  of  mental, 
172. 

Audience,  Suiting  subject  to, 
13/. 

Authority,  Evidence  of,  126. 

Barbarisms,  93, 
Because,  40. 

Beginning,    The,    17;     an    "In- 
troduction,    17. 
Besides,  53,  74. 
Body  of  argument,  134  /. 
Brackets,  105/. 
Brief,  Form  of  a,  138  /. 
Bryce,  James,  35. 
Burroughs,  John,  119  /. 
But,  40. 

Capitalization,  106- 

Cards,  Use  of,  7. 

Certainly,  46. 

Character,  in  the  short  story,  163; 
presentation  of,  163  /. 

Characters,  Introduction  of,  154; 
presentation  at  beginning, 
154  /.;  during  progress  of 
narrative,  155  /.;  descrip- 
tion and  exposition  of,  156; 
methods  of  developing,  156. 


183 


Circumstantial  evidence,  123, 
128;  value  of,  126  ff. 

Clause,  The  independent,  43; 
the  dependent,  43;  position 
of,  84. 

Clearness,  66;  in  the  sentence, 
66  ff. ;   how  to  gain,  68. 

Climax,  153. 

Colon,  The,  104  /. 

Comma,  The,  103. 

Comparison,  29. 

Complex  sentence,  The,  42,  85. 

Composition,  Essentials  of,  3*. 
something  to  say,  3  /. ;  power 
to  think  clearly,  8  ff. ;  under- 
standing of  sentence,  3 ;  good 
vocabulary,  3. 

Compound-Complex  sentence, 
The,  43,  85. 

Conjunctions,  Correlative,  47. 

Consequently,  40,  53,  74. 

Construction,  "And  which,**  51; 
absolute,  56;    "parallel,'*  69. 

Content  of  each  sentence,  77. 

Contrast,  29. 

Co-ordination  and  subordination, 
50. 

Correlative  conjunction,  47. 

Dash,  The,  104. 

Deduction,  129. 

Definition  of  subject,  29. 

Dependent  clause,  The,  43. 

Description,  168;  getting  de- 
scriptive effect,  171;  move- 
ment in,  171;  not  "  word- 
painting,"  171  /.;  specifica- 
tion in,  172#.;  organization  of 
descriptive  writing,  174;  the 
point  of  view,  174;  narration 
and  description,  176  /.;  topo- 
graphical organization,  177  /. ; 
language  of,  178  /.;  few 
words  in,  178. 

Descriptive  effect,  Getting,  171. 

Descriptive  writing,  organization 
of,  174  ff. 

Details,  Use  of,  in  development, 
26  ff  ;   arrangement  of,  30  /. 

Development,  25  ff.;  matter  of 
details,  26  ff.\    methods  of. 


184 


INDEX 


29;  significance  of  material 
in,  29  /.;  arrangement  of 
details,  30/.;  proportion,  31. 

Dialogue,  159/.;  composition  of , 
160;  principles  underlying, 
160  /. ;  how  to  introduce,  161. 

Distributive  pronouns,  47  /. 

Either  .  .  .  or,  47. 

Ellipsis,  55  /. 

Emphasis,  66,  73  ff. ;  in  relation  to 
paragraph-topics,  34  /.;  in 
paragraph,  38. 

Ending,  The,  18  /.;  a  "conclu- 
sion," 18. 

Essential  likenesses,  Establish- 
ment of,  132  /. 

Essentials  of  a  good  sentence,  43. 

Even,  46. 

Events,  Order  of,  in  narration,  147 
ff.;  beginning  in  the  middle, 
147/.;  suspense,  149;  Logic  of, 
153/. 

Evidence,  122;  kinds  of ,  123;  per- 
sonal, 123  ff. ;  circumstantial, 
123  ff. ;  of  authority,  126. 

Exact  wording,  7. 

Exactness  in  use  of  words,  86. 

Examples,  Concrete,  in  develop- 
ment, 29;  Use  of,  in  expo- 
sition, 115/. 

Exclamation  point,  103. 

Exposition,  109  ff. ;  material  of, 
111;  in  relation  to  descrip- 
tion and  narration,  111  /.; 
process  of,  112  ff.;  depend- 
ence of,  113  ff.;  details  in, 
114  /.;  importance  of  ex- 
amples in,  115  /.;    order  in, 

116  /.;    interest  in,  117. 
Exercises;    composition,  8,  14  /., 

19,  25;  paragraph,  37,  40  /.; 
sentence,  49  /.,  54  /.,  57,  58, 
59  /.,  63  /.,  70  ff.,  76 /.,  80  ff. ; 
words,    98    ff.;     exposition, 

117  ff.,  141  ff. 

Fact  and  Inference,  122. 
Factors  of  the  term,  113. 
Figures  of  speech,  91  /. ;   applica- 
bility of,  91 ;  freshness  of,  91. 
Finally,  40. 
"Fine  writing,"  95. 
First,  40. 
For,  40. 

Form,  73;  of  a  brief,  138  /. 
Franklin,  Benjamin,  38. 
Furthermore,  40. 
Future  tense,  58  /. 

General  conclusions,  129  ff. ;   ma- 
jor premise,  130  /. 
General  knowledge,  6„ 


Grammar,    43   /.;     best   way   to 

learn,  44;   solecisms,  44  ff. 
Green,  Richard  Henry,  33, 35/.,  39. 
Group,  Sentence  part  of  a,  80. 
Group-words,  47  /. 

Hence,  40,  53. 

History    of    the    English    People, 

33,  35. 
Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  92. 
However,  40,  53,  79. 

Ideas,  Relationship  of,  9 ;  system- 
atizing, 15  /. 

Idiom,  62,  97;  sentence-order, 
97/. 

Improprieties,  93 ;  barbarisms, 
93;  slang,  93  /.;  "fine  writ- 
ing," 95. 

Incidents  in  narration,  147  /.; 
selection  of,  149  /. ;  essential, 

149  /.;  development  of,  150; 
interesting     in     themselves, 

150  /. ;  knowledge  of  the  in- 
tention, 151 ;  logic  of  events, 
153/. 

Incorrect  reference,  47  /. ;  remedy 
for,  49. 

Increase  of  evidence,  126  /. 

Independent  clause,  The,  43. 

Indices,  6;  Poole's  Index,  6; 
American  Library  Associa- 
tion Index,  6. 

Individual  objects,  168. 

Induction,  129,  132. 

Inference    128. 

Infinitive  The,  and  the  Parti' 
ciple,  65. 

Instances,  Particular,  130. 

Interest  in  exposition,  117. 

Interrogation  point,  103. 

Investigation,  personal,  5  ff. 

Issue,  The,  133. 

Italicization,  107. 

Jackson,  Andrew,  21  /. 

Knowledge  of  the  intention,  151  ff . 
climax,  153. 

Lamb,  Charles,  173. 

Language,  of  narration,  158  /.; 
dialogue,  159  /.;  of  descrip- 
tion, 178;  few  words,  178/. 

Length  of  paragraph,  32  /.;  in 
relation  to  paragraph-topic, 
33  /. ;  Green's  Short  History 
of  the  English  People,  33. 

Limitation,  9  ff.;  of  the  subject, 
10  /.;  point  of  view,  11  ff.; 
selection,  13;  considering  the 
audience,  13/.;  object  of,  14. 


INDEX 


185 


Logic,  Processes  of,  128  ff.;  in- 
duction, 129;  deduction,  129; 
general  conclusions,  129  /.; 
analogy,  132. 

Macaulay,  35,  39,  91,  115. 

Material,  Significance  of,  29  /. ;  of 
exposition,  111. 

Methods  of  development,  29;  def- 
inition, 29;  examples,  29; 
comparison  or  contrast,  29; 
repetition,  29;  of  narration, 
146  /. ;  of  developing  ^charac- 
ter, 156. 

Moreover,  53. 

Movement  in  description,  171. 

Narration,  36  /.,  146;  object  of, 
146;  methods  of,  146  /.; 
problems  of,  147;  language 
of,  158  /.;  narration  and  de- 
scription, 176/. 

Neither  .  .  .  nor,  47. 

Nevertheless,  53. 

Next,  40. 

"Normal  order,  The,**  74  /.; 
116/. 

Notation,  System  of,  136  n. 

Notwithstanding,  40. 

Number  of  words.  96  /. 

Obscurity  of  reference,  49. 

On  account  of,  40. 

Only,  46. 

On  the  contrary,  40. 

On  the  other  hand,  40. 

"Order,  The  Normal, "  74  /.; 
116/. 

Order  of  topics,  17  /. ;  time-order, 
17;  space-order,  17 /.;  order 
of  increasing  complication, 
18-  in  exposition,  116/. 

Organization,  15/.;  systematizing 
ideas,  15/.;  process  of ,  16/.; 
the  beginning,  17;  order  of 
topics,  17  /. ;  the  ending,  18  /. ; 
relation  of  topic  to  topic, 
19  ff.;  outlines,  22  ff.;  of 
the  sentence,  65. 

Outlining,  22  ff. ;  double  value  of, 
22;  kinds  of,  22;  by  topics, 
22  ffr,  by  heads  and  sub- 
heads, 22  ff.\  taking  one 
step  at  time,  24  /. 

Paragraph,  The,  32;  length  of, 
32  /. ;  paragraph-topics,  33  /. ; 
arrangement  of  material  in, 

37  /. ;  relation  of,  to  the  whole 

38  ff.;    emphasis  in,  38;    the 
ending  of,  38. 

Paragraph-relationship,  Ways  of 


Indicating,  39  /.;  sub-con- 
nection, 39;  relation  words, 
40;  reference  words,  40;  rep- 
etition. 40. 

Paragraph-topics,  Length  in  re* 
lation  to,  33  /.;  emphasis 
in  relation  to,  34  /. 

Paragraphing,  32;  comparative 
importance  of,  32;  governed 
by  convention,  32. 

"Parallel  construction,"  69,  79. 

Parenthesis,  The,  105/. 

Participle,  The,  and  the  Infini- 
tive, 65. 

Particular  instances,  130;  minor 
premise,  130. 

Past  tense,  61  /. 

Period,  The,  104. 

Personal  evidence,  123  /.,  128. 

Persuasion,  139  /. 

Point  of  View,  The,  in  limiting 
subject,  11  ff. 

Poole's  Index,  6. 

Position,  73 ;   of  clauses,  84. 

Power  to  think  clearly,  8  jjr.', 
relationship  of  ideas,  9; 
limitation,  9  ff.;  organiza- 
tion, 9,  15  /.;  development, 
25/. 

Predication,  Reduction  of,  52,  69, 
89,  96. 

Premise,  major,  13G,    minor,  130 

Preparation  of  the  argument, 
133:  the  issue,  133;  terms, 
133  /.;  introduction,  134; 
the  body,  134  /.;  process  of, 
135  /  notation,  136  n. ;  ref- 
utation, 137  /.;  conclusion, 
139 

Present  tense,  60  /.;  historical 
present,  61. 

Problems  of  narration,  147;  order 
of  events,  147  ff.;  selection 
of  incidents,  147  ff.;  char- 
acters, 147  ff. ;  setting,  147  ff. 

Proof,  122  /. 

Pronouns,  distributive,  47  /. 

Proportion  in  composition,  31; 
amount  of  space,  31. 

Proportion  in  sentences,  73. 

Propriety  in  use  of  words,  93. 

Punctuation,  Marks  of,  102  ff; 
period,  102;  exclamation 
point,  103 ;  interrogation 
point,  103;  comma,  103; 
semicolon,  104;  dash,  104; 
colon,  104/.;  marks  of  quota- 
tion, 105;  apostrophe,  105/.; 
parenthesis,  105/.;  brackets, 
105/ 

Punctuation,  Object  of,  102. 

Quotation  marks,  105. 


186 


INDEX 


Beading,  5  ff. 

Reference,  47;  Incorrect,  47; 
ambiguous,  49;  obscurity  of, 
49. 

Reference  words,  40. 

Refutation,  137. 

Relation  of  the  paragraph  to  the 
whole,  38  ff.;  to  what  has 
gone  before,  39  /.;  ways  of 
indicating,  39  /. 

Relation  of  the  sentence  to  other 
sentences,  77. 

Relation  of  situation  to  climax  in 
short  story,  162  /.;  to  charac- 
ter in  short  story,  163. 

Relation  of  topic  to  topic,  19  ff. 

Relation  words,  40. 

Repetition,  29;  and  paragraph- 
relationship,  40. 

Revision,  66,  79. 

Secondly,  40. 

Selection,  13. 

Semicolon,  The,  103. 

Sentence,  The,  3;  understanding 
of,  3;  kinds  of,  42  /.;  es- 
sentials of,  43;  arrangement 
of,  44;  organization  of,  65  ff. ; 
revision  of,  66;  clearness  m, 
66  ff.)  in  relation  to  other 
sentences,  77;  content  of, 
77;  revision  of,  in  relation 
to  other  sentences,  77;  as 
part  of  a  group,  80. 

Sentence-form,   Variety  of,  82. 

Sentence-order,  97  /. 

Setting,  Introduction  of,  156  /.; 
the  outset,  157;  during  prog- 
ress of  narration,  157;  "set- 
ting" not  "landscape,"  157/. 

Shall  and  Will,  58  /.;  use  of  in 
questions,  59, 

Shift  of  subject,  68. 

Short  Story,  The,  162;  •'situa- 
tion" in,  162;  relation  of 
situation  to  climax,  162  /.; 
relation  of  situation  to  char- 
acter, 163;  character  in,  163; 
presentation  of  character, 
163/. 

Significance  of  material,  29  /. 

Simple  sentence,  The,  42,  82  /. 

"  Situation  "  in  the  short  story.  162. 

Slang,  93  /. 

So,  53  ff. 

So  that,  54. 

Something  to  say,  3  /.'  writing 
from  special  knowledge,  4  /. ; 
getting  special  knowledge, 
4#. 

Space,  Amount  of,  31. 

Special  Knowledge,  getting,  4  ff. ; 
by     personal     investigation, 


5  ff. ;  by  reading,  5  ff. ;  sub- 
jects, 6;  general  knowledge, 
6;  indices,  6;  exact  words  of 
author,  7 ;  use  of  cards,  7. 

Specific  word,  The,  86,  90. 

Specification  in  description,  172  ff. ; 
associations,  172  /. 

Structure,  Parallel,  79. 

Sub-connection  in  paragraphing, 
39. 

Subject,  The,  69;  definition  of, 
29;  limiting  the,  10/.;  shift 
of,  68. 

Subjects  for  investigation,  6. 

Subordinate  words,  52  /. 

Subordination  and  co-ordination, 
50. 

Suggestiveness,  89  ff.;  use  of 
specific  words,  86,  90  /.; 
figures  of  speech,  91  /. 

Suspense  in  narration,  149;  two- 
fold, 149. 

Syllogisms,  130. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  174. 

Tenses,  58  ff. ;  future,  58  /. ;  for- 
mation of  present,  60;  past, 
61  /. ;   idiom,  62. 

Term,  The,  109,  133  /. ;  factors  of 
the,  113;  to  argue  a,  121  f, 

Therefore,  40,  53. 

Tone,  95  /. 

Topic-sentence,  The,  35  ff.;  in 
narration,  36  /. 

Topic,  Statement  of  the,  36  /. 

Topic  to  topic,  Relation  of,  19  ff 

Twofold  suspense,  149. 

Unnecessary  words,  Use  of,  96  /. 

Verb-forms,  57  ff. 
"Visual-minded,"  171. 
Vocabulary,  Characteristics  of  a, 

SQff.;   wide,  88;   increase  of , 

89. 

Whether  .  .  .  or,  47. 

Will  and  Shall,  58  /. 

Witness,  The,  124/.;  character  of, 
124;  competence  of,  124; 
prejudice  of,  124. 

" Word-Painting, "  Description 
not,  171  /. 

Words,  Relation,  40;  reference, 
40;  group-words,  47 /. ;  really 
subordinate,  52  /. ;  omission 
of,  55;  general,  86;  specific, 
86;  exactness  in  use  of,  86; 
number  of,  96  /.;  propriety 
in  use  of,  100;  few  in  descrip- 
tion, 178  /. 

Writing,  a  craft,  31;  from  special 
knowledge,  4  /. 


ANIHITIALFOTOF^HTB 

*,UL«  ASSQrTHDE  OATE  DUE    THE  PENALTY 
THIS    BOOK   ON   "E  DATE  FOURTH 

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